Magnetic Attraction
by ellamalfoy8
Summary: After a spell goes wrong in class Draco and Mione can't separate because of a magnetic attraction. Drama follows when they learn they can't stop touching, literally. Will they end up killing each other, or will they keep each others secrets? DMHG
1. Loathing So Strong

**A/N: Well, when you read this I've probably just finished posting Stop Calling Me Malfoy. So, to celebrate the end and thank all of my reviewers, I have started another Dramione fic. This one will be a little slower, although it's hard to predict where my pen will take me, but it will be fun anyway! **

**This fan fic was inspired by the fan fic Hand In Hand, by Procrastinator-starting2moro, and (kind of) by Linked, by Philyra912. **

**Anyway, I know that this first chapter is rushed and not written beautiful, but I needed to drive straight into the plot. Stick with me! And I am aware that some characters are OOC, like Hermione with her swearing, but she's just upset, and kind of lonely. And another warning, there is _major_ swearing. Well, not major, but enough so that I had to rate this teen.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Stop asking me.**

**Magnetic Attraction**

**Chapter 1: Loathing So Strong**

Hermione had once again spent her lunch break in the library, preparing for class. As head girl, she needed to be in control of her grades, that was if she wanted to keep her position. Just the idea of the look on Malfoy's face if she ever got sacked was just too frightening. So she curled up in an alcove and did research on the Charge Switching spell.

The Charge Switching spell was fascinating, and Hermione was able to ignore the rumbling of her stomach with ease. When cast on a pair of magnets, it would reverse their charges, so they would become attracted to each other, or visa versa. It would come up on the NEWTS, she was sure of it, so she reviewed the material repeatedly. They had gone over the concept in Charms the previous day and today they would use it for the first time. She had to be sure she could perform it properly. Not once had she ever met a spell she couldn't do, but this altered the elemental substance of the magnets themselves, and would be much more challenging. What would Malfoy say if she couldn't do it? Stupid ferret would laugh his ass off, and then do it perfectly just to spite her. Oh how she loathed him. Why did _he_ have to be head boy?

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Reluctantly Hermione slid the textbook into her bag and exited the library. She tried to wrestle her hair into a half suitable ponytail, but the frizzy mess wouldn't comply, and she ended up with just a narled elastic band, and very matted hair. What was that straightening spell Lavender used? Hermione drifted off into thought and didn't notice Peeves was following her, carrying a gigantic glass vase. Not one student had the guts to pull the head girl out of her thoughts to warn her of the impending threat that floated above her, mainly because the poltergeist would get his revenge later on.

She turned a corner to enter a short cut hidden behind a tapestry, which would bring her up several stories, when the spirit dropped it. There was no one in the hidden stairway to help her get the large thing off her.

"Peeves, I swear one day I will bloody **kill** you!" she wailed, but he was long gone, off to celebrate his victory. Feebly, she pounded on the glass, but it didn't break. "Hello? Anybody? Can somebody help me?" The class bell rung. She was late for charms. "Oh bloody fuck!" She pulled out her wand and yelled, "Reducto!" The glass shattered and fell in a circle around her feet. She continued cursing as she ran up the steps and bolted to her lesson.

When she entered the classroom, all eyes turned to her. Hermione Granger wasn't late to class often. It was like the sighting of Lockhart with a frown.

"Sorry I'm late Professor. I got into a run in with Peeves on my way here," she told Professor Flitwick calmly. He nodded placidly.

"No trouble, Ms. Granger. Take a seat." She turned to face Harry and Ron, but Lavender was in her seat. Masking her dismay, she turned to see the only empty seat was next to Malfoy, who was picking at his nails, his blond hair falling across his eyes. Ron and Harry sent her apologetic smiles, but she ignored them as she sat down next to the smirking devil, who ignored her as well. Great, just great. Harry and Ron had forgotten to save her a seat again. Wonderful. The trio was more of a duo these days. Puberty had lead the boys to band together while Hermione sat off to the side. As she spent afternoons in the library, they went on double dates with Ginny and Lavender, whom Ron had gotten back together with. They had forgotten about her a lot lately. Flitwick resumed his lecture but Hermione couldn't concentrate. Malfoy, who found it entertaining to watch her face wrinkle as she thought, noticed. He could see the worry lines crowding her forehead, just as he could see the tension in her posture, and the loneliness in her eyes. He lowered a scrap of parchment onto his knee so no one could notice and jotted down something, before folding the paper into a square. He flicked it into her lap.

It jolted her out of her trance and stared down at it fearfully. Great, now the ferret was trying to talk with her. With a second glance around to see no one was watching, she unfurled the note and skimmed it.

_Is that the fifth of the sixth time this week they've forgotten you?_ Oh, that sadistic bastard. It was enough to know you were loosing your friends, but to have your enemy point it out was just low. She grabbed her quill and responded without thinking, then slid it across the table so it rested in front of his on the desk. He uncurled it nonchalantly, but his eyebrows shot up as he read its contense.

_Go to fucking hell you bloody asshole._ A sly grin spread across his lips. She crossed her arms defiantly, thinking of ways to kill him without getting sent to Azkaban.

_Oh, did I hit a nerve? Who knew mudblood Granger could swear?_ Hermione glared at him through her bushy hair and didn't reply. That fucking pureblood bastard! Flitwick was now walking around the room with a cardboard box, giving out sets of magnets.

"Since this is such a complicated spell, work with the person next to you and perform the spell together, to heighten your chances of succeeding." He placed two magnets in front of them. Just to focus her anger without giving Malfoy reason to smirk, Hermione glared at them instead. "So just remember the incantation is attractiano reversare." The students around them began to work, but she didn't move. He snickered and prodded the two circular magnets with his wand.

"Attractiano reversare," he drawled, and the two magnets shifted but didn't separate. He growled at them and Hermione stifled a bitter laugh. "Try it with me, mudblood, we need two people." She bristled. "Oh, did I hurt your feelings? Are you gonna swear again?" Stupid sarcastic bastard.

"Attractiano reversare," she hissed at the magnets, but like Malfoy, nothing major happened. She gasped, realizing that it was too hard for her.

"I'm telling you, we need to do it in unison. Maybe then you'll be able to do something as simple as split magnets." With a cool sense of satisfaction, he watched as her eyes became glassy with unshed tears. "I'm sure even Weasel can do this." Fucking asshole with his stupid blond hair.

"Do I need to remind you that you can't do the spell, Malfoy? What would dear old dad say if he found out? But oh, wait! He's dead!" His smirk slid off his face. She did not just go there, stupid mudblood know it all.

"Don't talk about things you don't understand, Granger. Now on the count of three." She sighed and pointed her wand at the magnets. "That is if you can count, Mudblood."

"I have the feeling I'm not the one who should worry, I doubt that math was a subject of discussion at Death Eater meetings." _Oh god, I hate you,_ thought Malfoy, trying to focus his energy on the magnets.

"Well, I did count the number of times Weasel and Golden boy forgot about you, so I _do_ have practice." _Oh god, I hate you, _thought Hermione. "1… 2… just so you know, this next number is the one we go on."

"Thank you for clearing that up."

"3."

"Attractiano Reversare," they both yelled, and a jet of purple light came out of both their wands. Instead of heading toward the magnets, however, it changed direction halfway there; they headed to each other, creating a beam of light between them. It disappeared quickly, and Malfoy growled in frustration at the untouched magnets.

"Damn it Granger, what did you do?" he asked, turning to face her. She was just as upset. "Well, let's try again and don't sass me when I'm-" he stopped talking as a pull startled him.

"What the fuck is that?" Hermione stammered, gripping the sides of her chair as her body tilted itself over towards him as if he were a magnet. But he couldn't reply, as his chair lurched to the side and tipped over, bringing her down on top of him. He landed on his back, smacking his head on the floor. She struggled to pry herself off him, but her body seemed to decide otherwise.

"Ack, get off me!" he yelped into her hair, trying to push her off, but there seemed to be some sort of magnetic pull between them.

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" she wailed. "Harry! Harry help me!" She gripped the leg of their table and managed to extricate herself from his lap, but he slid toward her as if someone was dragging him by his ankle. "Crap, Professor! Professor!" Malfoy mimicked Hermione and clung to a table leg as Harry, Ron, Professor Flitwick, and most of the class surrounded them.

"Stay calm and touch her leg, Draco," the short man urged, looking bewildered but delighted. Malfoy looked up at him in horror. "Just do it, it should focus the attraction!"

"What attraction? There's no attraction!" Malfoy protested, but the desk he was hanging onto collapsed and the leg broke off, causing him to scramble franticly for something else to hold on to.

"Oh, honestly!" Hermione growled before wrapping her hand around his ankle. The pull subsided, but when Malfoy tried to wrench himself from her grasp, it came back full force until she grabbed it again. "Professor, what on earth happened?" Flitwick shrugged, but couldn't hide his sly smile.

"It seems you have reversed your own magnetic fields! I suppose that you hated each other with such a passion that the spell went to you instead of the magnets! This has never happened before! How remarkable!"

"Excuse me? This isn't remarkable, it's horrible! Reverse it! Reverse it!"

"I don't think I can, you two cast the spell." Malfoy reached over Hermione for his fallen wand and she switched hands to seek her own. They pointed them at each other, both wearing matching grimaces.

"Count of three," Hermione asked, her voice racked with panic.

"Yeah, whatever. 1… 2… 3 Attractiano Reversare!" Nothing happened. There was no jet of purple light or any noticeable change. Malfoy scowled at the teacher, as Hermione hesitantly removed her hand. Bad idea. They both slid toward each other, cloaks getting caught on the wooden floor. He grabbed her hand and it stopped. Hermione winced; she'd gotten a splinter on her leg. "Well, what now?"

"I suppose you two should go see the headmaster, he'll think of something to do." Something about his tone scared her deeply, and was remarkably suspicious. Malfoy seemed to be on the same page.

"So there's nothing you can do?"

"No, but Professor Dumbledore will surely know how to help you. You should go see him, you have proven your ability to perform this spell, so you will not be missing anything."

"We have to walk up there like _this_?" Hermione hissed, holding up their entwined hands. "You can't be serious!" Flitwick gave her a sheepish grin and nodded. "All right, fine." She stood up and yanked Malfoy up with her, smoothing down her uniform skirt with her free hand. At least he didn't have stick hands like Ron. "I'll see you two at dinner," she told Harry and Ron as she passed them, looking at them for the first time. They were laughing. Wonderful. She stalked out of the room, wondering what she had done to deserve this. Malfoy tottered on behind her, struggling to keep up with her panic-induced speed.

"Wo, chill Granger!" She whirled around, quite a mean feat seeing as they were still holding hands. When he saw her face he struggled to stifle a quiver of fear. Last time he had seen her so angry she had smacked him.

"Chill? You expect me to chill?" she growled, her voice steady. "Did it occur to you that we may be stuck like this for a while? Did it?"

"I've been trying not to think about it," he answered, his voice cool.

"Yeah, well maybe you should. What about NEWTS? What about sleeping? What about bathing for bloody sake?" Her cheeks were burning a vibrant red, and a small stream of tears was glazing her skin. "Who cares if this only last a day? Either way, I would rather this never happened! This is humiliating!" She turned back around and continued marching up the empty corridor. He tugged his hand from hers with some difficulty because of the magnetism and moved it to her shoulder quickly, already punishing himself for what he was about to say.

"Look, don't take this as me being nice because I'm not trying to comfort you, but I'm sure we'll be fine. The crazy old codger will help us out and we can forget this ever happened. And even if we don't get out of this immediately, we'll work it out. I assure you on my honor as a Malfoy and as a pureblood that we will get out of this ASAP." She gave him a half-hearted glare, but sniffed and nodded. "So let's get this over with and go back to loathing each other, ok?" A small laugh escaped from her mouth before she could stop it.

"All right ferret, let's go." He removed his hand from her shoulder and began to walk, but didn't get far before they both stumbled over and landed once again on top of her on the ground. He groaned and found her hand, before pulling him off her. He helped her up reluctantly and they started on their was towards Dumbledore's office once again.

"I am never going to get used to that." _Why is he being nice?_ Hermione thought.

"Hopefully you won't need to." _Are we having an actual conversation?_ Apparently. It felt weird to be holding hands, she realized with a start. Well, sure he was Malfoy, but he had a gentle grip, unlike Ron, and a warm one, unlike Harry. And he was handsome. He _was_ a git, but at least he was hygienic. And he smelled nice. _Well, I could have been stuck with someone worse, like Goyle._

"So how long have Potty and Weasel been ignoring you?" _Scratch that whole thing._

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just trying to make conversation." She sighed and chewed on the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from telling him where he could stick his conversation.

"Well, make conversation about something that _is_ your business."

"Can I talk about quidditch?"

"No." _Stupid Granger and her stupid lack of respect for sports!_ He stepped aside so she could ascend the flight of steps before him.

"Can I talk about quadpot?" he asked, just to annoy her. It worked. She scrunched up her nose and glared at him.

"No."

"Can I talk about racing brooms?" HE loved watching her get angry. All of her hair got really fuzzy for some reason, and her pupils widened.

"Let's just not talk, ok?"

"Fine." So they walked on in silence, until Malfoy found a new way to annoy her. He swung their clasped hands back and forth as they walked, slowly at first but he gained speed until they made a full circle. Hermione was trying hard not to notice, but was failing miserably.

"Oh would you just _stop_?" she finally snapped, and he stopped.

"But I'm _bored_!" he whined, dragging out his last word.

"What are you, two?"

"Maybe my mind, but my body's all man," he responded with a suggestive wink. She swore she felt herself vomit in her mouth and gagged pathetically for several seconds. "It must be killing you that you can't storm off right now."

"You have no idea." They had reached the stone gargoyle, and she added, "Blow pop." It jumped aside and Malfoy followed her onto the stairway.

"What is a Blow pop anyway? It sounds saucy," he observed. She ignored him. Lightly tapping on the door, she wondered why on earth _he_ had been made head boy.

"Come in!" Dumbledore called softly, and she took a deep breath and pushed open the door, Malfoy following along behind her. The elderly man sat behind his desk and watched them sit down in front of him, never letting go of each other's wrists. He said with a twinkle in his eye and a note of amusement in his voice, "Well, this is a surprising turn of events."

"Excuse me?" Malfoy started, a little slow on the uptake.

"Oh no no no Professor. We had an incident in charms. When practicing the Charge Switching spell something odd happened and now our bodies are… for lack of a better word…" she trailed off, beginning to blush.

"Attracted to each other like magnets. Flitwick said you could help us," Malfoy finished for her, absentmindedly stroking Hermione's hand with his fingers. Dumbledore nodded, still smiling.

"_Professor_ Flitwick, Draco," he corrected, watching as Malfoy glared at him. "Well, that is most interesting. Did you try to simply switch the fields back?"

"Of course. Well, what should we do?" He sat in silence, just beaming at them. For once both Hermione and Malfoy wanted to smack him. "Do you have a counter curse or something?"

"I'm afraid there is nothing I can do, Hermione. For the current time I suggest you two deal with this to the best of your ability." She stared at him in shock, unable to voice her opinion. _Shit_.

"Deal with it to the best of our ability? Are you _insane?_ Do you realize how _strong_ this is?" Shouted Malfoy, raising their hands.

"I assure you, I understand completely. I have faith in you two, and I trust you can handle this with poise in dignity." Malfoy opened his mouth but Hermione started talking before he could.

"Professor, _we can't separate!_ What should we do when we need _privacy_?"

"I'm sure you two will learn to deal with it accordingly. Now I apologize, but I was on my way to a staff meeting and I must say goodbye." With that he stood up, his blue robed falling gracefully around his frame. Malfoy was livid.

"You can't just leave! What do we do!" he yelled, trembling with anger and shock. But Dumbledore strode over to the door, pulling it open. He turned, his hand on the doorknob and said,

"I'm sure your lesson has ended. I'll see you at dinner," before sweeping out the door. He closed it behind him. Hermione's mouth hung open. The blond next to her stood up and franticly ran both hands through his hair, once again forgetting about their attraction. Almost immediately he was jerked into her lap, and she stared up at him, still stunned. He groaned, grabbed her hand, and stood up.

"What now?" he asked. She had no idea.

**A/N: So, like? Hate? Give me feedback! Was Malfoy too nice? I was a little worried about that… Anyway, review and add me to your story alert list. Teaser?**

_She nodded feebly, eyes still shut. Tentatively, he raised his free and ran a finger over her jaw. She surprised him by leaning into his touch. Yes, Granger is lonely, he realized sadly, pulling his hand away._

**Anyway, I'll see you later.**

**Oh wow, ten pages in word! Final word count: 3446 (long!)**


	2. A Tad Less Evil

**A/N: Ok, I probably shouldn't be typing this already, seeing as I've only posted the first chapter about 3 hours ago, but I can't wait. I got 5 reviews in the 3 hours it has been on the net and I am soooo happy. Squee! I'm glad you liked the first chapter, but this one's even better in my opinion. We see Draco with his defenses down, and Hermione's passion for muggle cartoon characters. Well, not really a passion, but oh well. So anyway, read on!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything you could recognize.**

**A/N 6/3/07: **_Guys, I'm just going through and editing some errors I found. You don't have to reread this if you've already read it._

**Chapter 2: A Tad Less Evil**

They decided to skip dinner and just dine in their common room, neither being up to face the gossip mill that would start when they walked into the Great Hall _touching_. Plus, there was the whole "Slytherin table vs. Gryffindor" table issue.

"I'm not sitting at the Slytherin table for meals, Malfoy, get over it!" Hermione growled as they sat across from each other at the small kitchen table. In one hand she clutched a hamburger, while the other rested above his on the wooden surface.

"Well I'm _so_ not dining with _your_ bunch, and I'm not avoiding the hall completely, so you'll just have to sit with us!" His fork slipped from his grip and clattered onto his plate. "Bugger, I can't even eat!"

"Take off your shoe," she ordered quietly, abandoning her hamburger to slide off her own trainers. He stared at her, an eyebrow quirked.

"Is this some weird muggle fetish or something?" She scoffed and kicked him in the shin.

"Just do it, socks too." Rolling his eyes, he kicked off his boots and looked at her for further instruction. "Now don't move." Malfoy sighed dramatically, then yelped as she gently placed her bare foot over his, before pulling her hand away.

"You've got cold feet. These better be clean, by the way." She stuck her tongue out at him and returned to eating. "I can't believe I have to touch a _mudblood_," he added, trying to provoke her. It didn't work. The insult was over used and had lost most of its kick. Never one to give up, he changed his tactic and said, "So how is this going to work?" She blinked at him, licking ketchup off her fingers.

"How do you mean? Like, rules?"

"I guess you could call it that. We could be stuck like this for a while, and I would like to get out of this alive." His face was blank, and for once she realized he was vulnerable. Malfoy was just as scared as she was. It was _almost_ cute. _Almost_.

"Well, let's start with the most pressing concern: bathroom issues. I suppose a simple scorgify charm should take the place of showering," she grimaced, "but I don't know what we can do about actually _going_ to the bathroom." Something about her business like tone struck him as amusing. He cracked a smirk. "I suppose we should go to the library after classes to do research, and until then we'll just have to deal with it." She slid her goblet away from her, as did Malfoy. "It's a good thing tomorrow's Friday."

"Tomorrow's Friday? I have quidditch practice!" He scowled at his plate. "I'm assuming you don't like to fly, Granger?" She blushed.

"You'll just have to have someone replace you. I'm sure anyone could do it, Harry doesn't mind who he beats." Malfoy tried to steal a fry from her plate, but she swatted his hand away.

"I'm not that easy to replace, Granger, I'm quidditch captain. And that leads me to another thing anyway; you'll have to hold of on snogging Weasely until this is over. I would rather not come out of this mentally scarred."

"Nothing's going on between Ron and me." Her eyes became glassy at the mention of the red head. Malfoy's smirk grew, revealing perfect white teeth.

"Because he's with that Brown slut. Interesting, I think I've found your weakness." _Oh I hate you,_ thought Hermione as she blinked back tears. She had feelings for Ron, it was true. How could she not? He was nice, strong, and protected her, or at least used to. She's known him for years. But since he's begun dating Lavender, she'd realized that she was just a sister to him, that he didn't see her as beautiful, or fascinating, or amazing like she wanted him to. That was when she'd begun hiding in the library.

"What ever ferret," she mumbled, wondering how she could escape into her room without him being pulled along with her.

"Aw, Granger's been rejected! I bet you haven't even had your first kiss, have you?" Stupid fucker!

"I didn't think you had any interest in my love life, Malfoy. Not that you'll have one until this is over." He raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so?"

"Well, I doubt Parkinson will be easy to seduce while I'm sleeping next to you. Then again, she is easy, or so I've heard." He choked on his pasta, and she grinned triumphantly, handing him a napkin.

"Wait, rewind. Who say's you'll be sleeping next to me?"

"Well, this isn't going to switch off every night at ten, and the magnetic pull will keep us from separating. So, we have to fall asleep next to each other."

"Merlin, this is a horror story," he stammered pathetically, running a hand through his silvery hair. "And would you stop starting every sentence with 'well?' It's irritating."

"Fine. Anyway, I call my bedroom first. And can we make a pact not to tell anyone about this? It's humiliating."

"Do you even have to ask, Granger?" He sighed as an odd look spread across her face. "What is it now?"

"Names. It's annoying to have to call you Malfoy if we have such a frighteningly intimate relationship all of a sudden. It just doesn't feel right." He glared at her, but understood her logic.

"Only in private, and it stops with us. I'm never going to call Potter by his name." She nodded and rubbed her eyes.

"I'm getting tired, I got up early. Give me your hand." Draco held it out to her reluctantly and she took it, standing up.

"It's only eight!" he exclaimed.

"Would you rather I fell asleep on the couch next to you, and be pressed up _against_ you, with my body _molded_ into yours as you struggled to move without disrupting the attraction? Would you prefer to have my face _nuzzled_ into your neck while you-," He grimaced and cut her off before she could go further.

"Stop it before I vomit." She smirked and said,

"_Exactly_. Now suck it up and follow me." She didn't wait for a reply and dragged him up out of his chair.

"I don't take orders from mudbloods," he hissed, pulling his hand out of her grasp. The magnetic pull knocked him off his feet and they toppled over, Hermione on her back with Draco's head pressed against her stomach. She grabbed his hand and neatly slid out from under him as he rose to his knees.

"Get used to it, Draco." So, having no other choice, he followed her into her red and gold bedroom, glaring murderously at the back of her fuzzy head. The room was exactly as he'd expected it to be, obsessively neat and organized. A row of picture frames displayed pictures of her family and the golden trio, some moving others not, but before he could get a good look she stalked into the bathroom. It was too girly and shocked him to his very core. Shampoo bottles marched like soldiers across the shelf of her bathtub, and a surprisingly ironic amount of cosmetics were stacked on her counter. She reached for a toothbrush and turned the sink tap, but Draco just pulled out his wand.

"Dents blanche," he pronounced, and his teeth gave a small twinkle. Pleased, he slipped his wand back in his trouser pocket and watched, amused, as Hermione squeezed a white paste out of a tube onto the little plastic brush. She ran it under the water before scrubbing her teeth with it. "May I ask what on earth you're doing?" She glared at his reflection in the mirror.

"Mm clinun mi teef," she said through her closed lips.

"Why not do it the magical way?" he asked, picking up the tube to read its label.

"My parents are dentists, they'd kill me."

"What they don't know can't hurt them," he replied with a cheeky wink. She spat into the sink and gently stepped on his foot to fill a cup of water. "You know, I must warn you Gr- Hermione, I sleep in my boxers." She ground her heel into his foot but he showed no signs of noticing.

"That can change." She turned off the water and grabbed an elastic band from a small bowl beside a bottle of lotion. He tapped his other foot impatiently and snickered as her hair knotted itself into a bird's nest.

"We'll see Hermione. And you might want to try a Straightening charm on that hair, it will make it easier to manage."

"I don't do magic on my hair," she pronounced as she managed to get a suitable bun to work. "It makes it greasy, which I assume you already know from experience." She took his hand again and pulled him out of the bathroom and over to her dresser, before stepping on his foot again to open the drawer. Draco watched as she ruffled through her neatly folded clothes. Hermione tried to ignore his snickers at her multicolored pajama drawer.

"You underestimate me, Hermione. My hair is naturally perfect," he told her smugly, before pulling an extra large yellow shirt displaying Spongebob Squarepants out from the stack. Unfolding it and holding it by the top corners, he asked, "What the hell is that?" She snatched it from his grasp and stuffed it back in the drawer.

"A muggle cartoon character," she answered, finding a red flannel nightgown and snapping the drawer shut. Fumbling for her wand, she added, "That's an old shirt." He snorted and drummed his fingers on the top of the wooden dresser, glaring halfheartedly at the pictures of Harry and Ron. "Dress me," she whispered, and her uniform switched with the nightgown. With a note of embarrassment she realized that the old dress was a little too small, meaning that it clung to her petite form. Draco looked her up and down with a frown. _How can a mudblood look so good? _He thought to himself. "Take a picture, Draco, it will last longer," she told him, and he realized he'd been staring.

"Impatient, Hermione?" It took her a moment to understand what he meant. When he could tell it registered, a little grin spread across his face. It disappeared when she smacked him. "Bloody hell, what was that for?" he asked, cupping his stinging face.

"For being an impossible ferret. Now shut up and get ready for bed." He rolled his eyes and motioned for her to turn around. Crossing her arms over her chest, she faced away from him, careful to never break contact with his foot. He took a nauseatingly long time unbuttoning his shirt, just to bother her. She fiddled uneasily with the hem of her skirt, as he unzipped his fly, making as much noise as possible. He grinned, stupid prude.

"Switch feet," he told her, bending close so he spoke into her year. Shivering, she did as she was told, and he pulled off his pant legs. Maybe this _would_ be fun after all… "All right, Hermione, I'm ready." Reluctantly turning back around, she saw he was smirking as he leaned against her dresser, wearing only a pair of gray silk boxers, which complimented both his hair and eyes. She gasped, immediately regretting turning around. Why did he have to be so attractive? Honestly. "Like what you see?" he asked coyly, jolting her out of her thoughts.

"Fuck off, ferret," she told him, grabbing his hand. He raised his eyebrows for what had to be the tenth time that night as she sat down on the foot of the bed. He gingerly perched on the red and gold quilt next to her, wondering why he had even gotten up that morning. He could have been flying right now if he had just hit the snooze button.

"I seem to have hit a nerve," he observed, lying down on his back while trying to scoot up the bed without looking like an ass. He didn't succeed, and accidentally let go of her hand. For once she was the one to move, and in an instant she was lying on top of him, pressed up against his bare chest, a hand on either side of his head. He smirked up at her, as she blushed, fumbling for his hand. He didn't give it to her, and instead rolled her over so he was on top. She stammered. _Seems mudblood Granger doesn't have much experience_, he thought with a wicked grin. He leant down and pressed his cheek against hers to whisper, "Stay on your side of the bed," into her ear. Then he took her hand in his own, rolled off her, slid under the covers, and extinguished the candles in one fluid movement. Let's just say Hermione was a little more than stunned as she pulled the covers over her.

"Draco?" she asked anxiously to his back, his blond hair looking remarkably perfect resting on the red and gold pillow.

"What?" he answered gruffly, feeling wide-awake. She faltered beside him, fingering his warm hand meekly. He shifted onto his side to look her in the eye. It struck him how amazingly beautiful she looked in the pale moonlight, her eyes sparkling and face half hidden in shadow. "What?" He repeated, his voice suddenly hoarse and quiet. She sighed and closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip.

"What are we going to do?" It was a weak question, but she couldn't help but ask. Draco had to admit; he didn't know what to say. He could so easily mock her in that moment, or black mail her, or threaten her, or even take advantage of her, but he just couldn't. Not when she looked so breathtakingly beautiful. Not when her small fingers were curled so gently around his own. Not when they were so amazingly close. He just couldn't find the strength. Not tonight.

"We do as Dumbledore says," he whispered quietly. "We deal with this to the best of our ability." She nodded feebly, eyes still shut. Tentatively, he raised his free hand and ran a finger over her jaw. She surprised him by leaning into his touch. _Yes, Granger __is__ lonely_, he realized sadly, pulling his hand away. _Potty and Weasel practically abandoned her._ "Goodnight Hermione," he whispered, closing his eyes and nestling into his pillow. Hermione's eyes fluttered open, as she contemplated his caring gesture. She could still feel his hand pressed against her face. Why was that so suddenly comforting? He looked so frighteningly honest and human, lying next to her, with his hand still entwined with hers. He might still be a prick, but at the moment… he seemed a tad less evil.

_He was in a rowboat in the middle of the lake. It was one of those days where there was no temperature; he could just sit in a sweater and jeans and not feel a thing. There was no noise, and he could just sit on the little wooden bench and let his thoughts wash over him. But he had no thoughts, not out here. There was nothing here, just the gentle, almost nonexistent rocking of the boat as he closed his eyes, running his hands through his hair. There was nothing here, nothing could reach him._

"_Draco," someone called quietly. A woman's voice, loving and caring. Only his mother talked to him like that. "Draco." Hermione sat before him, on the edge of the boat, her robes hanging into the lake water. She smiled at him innocently. She couldn't be a day over eleven-years-old. "Hi Draco." His name sounded so spell binding when she said it._

"_Hi," he answered softly. This was new; no one was ever here with him. But there she was, peering up at him with those warm brown eyes. "How did you get-," but she placed a finger over his lips, shushing him lightly._

"_Don't talk. You don't need to." So he didn't, and she pulled her hand away. They stared calmly at each other for a moment. "This is so calm." He nodded, and she gazed out over the murky water. "I should come out here more often," she added to herself. "No one can reach you. I miss feeling detached." He wanted to ask her why, but she seemed to read his mind and said, "Not now, Draco. For now just… just enjoy the moment."_

He woke up suddenly to see Hermione's face only inches from his own, eyelashes resting on her cheek. A small smile played around her lips, and her hair had escaped from its tie and lay around her face. He watched her inhale and exhale, her hand still clinging to his own. He enjoyed the moment of stolen calm. He didn't get this sense of tranquility often. Why was it that he felt so at peace lying beside her? But now he felt detached from the world outside completely, and he relished in it. He was _home_.

**A/N: Wow, as of now, 10:22 AM on Sunday morning, I have gotten 15 reviews for the first chapter alone! I'm so happy! Yeah! Don't you love Draco, in this chapter? He's a little cruel, but he was so cute with how he comforted Hermione. Aw, he's got such an adorable subconscious. I've only written half the next chapter, so excuse me if the teaser kind of sucks. **

"_No, leave it down, it looks better," he told her softly, watching her reflection in the mirror. She turned to face him, eyebrows raised. Oops. Panicked, he said, "Maybe now Weasel will finally notice you."_

**Oh, and I just want to apologize for the swearing in this fan fic. One or two people have complained, but it has plot value. It's a character flaw, and it makes Draco realize that Hermione isn't all that perfect. Anyway, thank you for reviewing! Keep it coming!**

**Final Word Count: 3121 (Semi long!) **


	3. Acting

**A/N: I hope you're enjoying this story, it's hard to write, but it's fun to plan. In this one, we see the return of innocent Draco, eventually, and we once again see the other two thirds of the golden trio. Anyway, I'll just start.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Um.. duh?**

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**Chapter 3: Acting**

Never in her life had Hermione Granger had a better good night sleep. When she opened her eyes, she felt rejuvenated and ready to do anything. There were at least a dozen beams of light spilling into the room by way of the window, and it seemed most of which focused on Draco, bathing him in the golden sun. He was still clutching her palm in his own, and an actual sleep induced smile graced his features. Never in her life had she seen such an amazing sight, and felt blessed to be the one to see it. She glanced over his shoulder at the alarm clock, 7 am. Time to get up.

"Draco," she whispered, but he didn't stir. A little louder this time, she repeated, "Draco." He shifted slightly and mumbled something incoherent, but still didn't open his eyes. "Draco!" He grunted and sleepily opened an eye, still glazed with rest. "Morning."

"Wa tims it?" he mumbled, raising his free hand to rub his eyes.

"7:01," she replied, sitting up in bed. He cracked open his other eye and yawned, stretching his arms over his head.

"Why'd you wake me up so early?" She rolled her eyes and poked him in the side.

"Because we both have to get ready for class and it's going to take twice as long because of the attraction." He blinked up at her wearily, secretly agreeing with her. "And I figured out how to solve our "Table" discussion, by the way," she added.

"And how's that?"

"Breakfast at Gryffindor table, since the boys are easier to deal with in the morning, and lunch at Slytherin. We can alternate dinner each day." He sat up, the quilt pooling in his lap. She looked away from his bare chest, blushing.

"That sounds fair." He reached for his wand and magicked his hair flat. Hermione tutted as she pulled herself out from under the covers. When her feet touched the floor he added, "I'm getting ready first." He got up and pulled her back over the bed to stand next to him. Her dress caught under her knee and slid down an inch or two, bearing some of her cleavage. He smirked and raised an eyebrow. Pulling the gown back up she growled,

"Says who?" But he was already dragging her out the door and across the hall to his room. It was messy, green, and everything her's was not.

"Says me," he responded. It was too early for him to think up witty retorts, and instead he busied himself by searching his armoire for an ironed button down shirt. "And anyway, the thing that will take the most time is your damn hair, so we can leave that for last, ok?" He pulled a gray polo shirt off a silk hanger and began rummaging for a pair of gray trousers.

"Whatever." He pulled her over to his dresser and stepped on her foot to open a drawer. It took her a moment to realize that she was staring at Draco Malfoy's underwear drawer. _Oh the horror!_ Fishing around for his favorite pair of black boxer shorts, he remembered that this was Granger he was holding hands with still. Foot firmly in place, he dropped her wrist, grabbed the clothing he was looking for, and mumbled,

"Dress me." Satisfied with his reflection, he found a pair of socks and reached for another set of uniform robes before pulling her out the door.

"You forgot your tie," she said with a smirk. He reentered her room and bent over to pull his tie out of the pile of clothing he had dropped the night before. Standing up, he waved the tie from the previous day in her face and said,

"I'm wearing this one." She huffed and pulled him over to her dresser and got out her own outfit as he knotted it around his neck and wrapped his robe around him. She used the same spell as he did to change, and then dragged him over to her closet to find her own robe and tie. "Hey Hermione?" She glanced over her shoulder at him, beckoning for him to go on. As she entered the bathroom he said, "Do you have any classes that I'm not in?" She began to brush her teeth.

"Muggle studies." He groaned.

"Can you please drop the class? I don't feel like learning about neurotic lesser beings." She slapped him on the arm and spat into the sink.

"Think of it as a free period to get work done. Then we can spend more time in the library doing research. I'm just sure that Dumbledore isn't telling us something! He was positively beaming last night!" He scowled at her.

"Both Flitwick and Dumbledore kept saying, _there's nothing __I__ can do_. There's probably some annoyingly revolting cure they aren't sharing," he provided, leaning closer to the mirror in order to examine his stubble covered chin. Pulling his wand from his pocket, he said, "Shavionatious." Never one to turn away from a spell she didn't know, Hermione watched as his chin was left clean. "Come _on_ Hermione, get a move on," he whined as she ran a brush through her hair. The bristles got stuck, however, and she winced, tugging on the handle. It didn't come out. Disgusted, he pronounced, "directement lockorous." Her hair instantly became clean and wavy, framing her face perfectly. The brush tumbled to the floor and he bent down to pick it up as she examined his work in the mirror.

"It's not greasy."

"It only gets greasy if the spell isn't done correctly," he told her smugly. She reached for the bowl holding elastics but he added, "No, it looks better down." She turned to face him, eyebrows raised. _Oops_. Panicked, he said, "Maybe now Weasel will finally notice you."

"Was there a complement hidden in there?" she asked quietly, staring up into his eyes. There was something hopeful in her brown pupils, a little amount of longing even. He wanted to say, _Yes! You're beautiful and I hate that! Weasely isn't good enough for you, you should be with someone better!_ Instead he looked at his feet, ashamed of his trail of thought and where it was leading him.

"Of course not, mudblood, don't be dense." The light in her eyes faded, and she sighed regretfully. "Come on, let's get our stuff and head downstairs." She trailed along behind him and followed him out into the common room, where he gathered assorted pieces of parchment and quills before sliding them into his leather book bag. She waited patiently for him to finish before collecting her own supplies. He sat down on the table and took her hand in order to tie on his shoes. It wasn't exactly easy to do one handed. She slid on her Mary Janes and watched with a smirk similar to his own as he struggled with the laces.

"Need help?" He glared at her, eyes plainly saying _fuck off_.

"I'm guessing there's a spell that I don't know or something, which you would be oh so willing to share?" She continued smirking, giggling softly as he knotted his laces together. "Well, go on then." She pulled out her wand, did a small figure eight in the air with it, and exclaimed,

"Knotious Laconious." Draco sighed as he watched her perfect spell work. The sneakers bound themselves to his feet and double knotted themselves before the laces lost their animation and flopped over. "Maybe from now on you should stick with Velcro." He looked up at her, confused.

"Velcro?" She groaned and smacked herself on the forehead.

"You really _do_ need muggle studies. Anyway, let's go and get this over with then head to the library." He chuckled and flicked his hair out of his steel gray eyes. "What?"

"That's what you do, isn't it? You shovel down a muffin before Weasel traipses in with his arm candy, then bolt out to sulk in the library!" There were no words to describe how low Hermione felt at that moment. He was dead on right. Not even her _friends_ had noticed her self-destructive behavior, but this boy who hardly knew her seemed to know her better that either Harry _or_ Ron. She looked down at her simple shoes, wishing she were someone else, someone special enough to catch Ron's eye, someone who wasn't in this situation. "Well for your information, if you're planning on holing up in the library then you are sorely mistaken." Saddened but empowered, she looked up to match his gaze. With an amount of shock, she could see pity for her in his eyes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she growled, her voice as cool and icy as his.

"Fine, play dumb. But here's a little food for thought. What would happen if Weasel realized that you wouldn't always be standing devoted at his side? Now that I'm in the picture, you're not going to be spending as much time with him and Potty, and I dare say they'll miss not having you around to check their homework. If I may say it, they might just get a little jealous that I stole you from them." He was beaming now, it was quite frightening. "Even if you were a little _friendly_ to me, or if I let slip our sleeping arrangements, they might burst." He raised her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss against it. He watched her shiver, his mind reeling with ideas. "Care for a little sweet revenge, Hermione?" He was absolutely right. She could cause some major damage by simply calling Malfoy "Draco" over breakfast. Ron's face would turn purple. She'd get his attention for sure. But this was like the ultimate betrayal! Ah, fuck them. It's _their_ fault for not saving her a seat in charms.

"I'll think about it, Malf- Draco." He nodded, than stood up off the table, yanking her up with him. She followed him out of the common room and into the hallway. "But for now we may want to come up with a way to show the school _why_ we're holding hands." He glanced at her briefly, before turning a corner.

"How about we just accidentally forget about the attraction and let the school witness the consequences?" he proposed. "Then they'd see we're not exactly enjoying this stupid mess and that we're just putting up with it." She sighed and looked down at their joined fingers.

"I suppose that's the only way." Falling on top of him in front of the whole school and staff would not be a pleasant experience. She could just picture the look on his face, eyes blazing with satisfaction, his smirk spreading across his face. Draco noticed the scowl creeping onto her face and released her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulder.

"Come on, Granger, it could be fun! Think of yourself as an entertainer! You can get mad at me, and I'll call you a mudblood. You can shove me and I'll fall over and bring you down with me." An entertainer? Ha! She _was_ an entertainer, hiding who she was behind her books and bushy hair. What did he know about acting? Well, she'd show him, wouldn't she?

"Fine, but don't physically harm me, I don't feel like getting a detention with you," she spat, shrugging his arm off her while finding his hand. He smirked, as per usual. "And don't sit there gloating during breakfast, the boys _will_ attack you." A single lock of wavy hair swung into her eyes as they neared the doors to the Great Hall. She blew it away impatiently, only to have it dangle in front of her again. Draco turned and brushed it behind her ear. She scowled at him, locked his hand in her own, and threw open the doors with a loud bang. Every head in the hall swiveled in their direction, but she paid no attention, concentrating on her performance. She'd give him acting. Her face screwed up in sudden anger as she whirled around and yelled, "Oh would you drop it Malfoy, I told you I don't know the name of Harry's shampoo, ask him yourself!" Absolutely stunned, Draco struggled to ignore the muffled laughter that rose from the students. Hermione inwardly grinned, memorizing the look of shock and confusion on his face.

"Well, I'm _sorry_ Granger, I just thought that your cat could use a bloody bath!" he snapped back sarcastically, his face returning to its normal icy exterior. Oh, she wanted to play, did she? "Not that I'd expect a filthy mudblood like yourself to know about hygiene." The laugher stopped, replaced by murmurings of, "he did _not_ just go there!"

_Should I yell at him, slap him, or shove him as planned?_ She thought, trying to keep her face livid. She was pissed, but she knew that for once he was just playing. His expression was harsh, but his eyes were laughing. So she yanked her hand from his and gave him a sharp push in the gut. He'd expected it, so he exaggerated his fall, stumbling backwards several steps before keeling over, to strengthen the attraction.

Instantly, she was thrown off her feet to lie awkwardly on top of him. Somehow she'd ended up straddling him, much like their position in charms the previous day, but now her face was barely an inch from his, their noses touching. He winked at her, before howling, "Get off me Granger!"

"What do you think I'm trying to do? Give me your bloody hand!" His palm found hers and she gripped it tightly, before pulling him up beside her. Draco sent her a mock glare that fooled everyone but her, and followed her over to the Gryffindor table, where he grudgingly sat down across from a stunned Harry and Ron. Ginny was perched on Harry's lap, and smiled warmly at the two teenagers.

"Morning guys," Hermione said, reaching for a jug of water. Ron blinked while Harry scowled as if he smelled something fowl. Draco rolled his eyes and scoffed, subtly putting his hand on the table so the other two thirds of the Golden Trio could see Hermione clutching his. Ron's face grew a Slytherinish color of green. Wondering if I could get any darker, Draco leaned close to Hermione and whispered,

"You're a good actress," into her ear. He made sure his lips brushed her cheek just enough to make any horny teenage boy jump to conclusions. It worked and Ron's freckled complexion began to switch to that of Barney.

"You have no idea," she whispered back. "And stop trying to insinuate things." Ginny and Harry had returned to eating silently, realizing that there was nothing they could do to remove the trespassing Malfoy. However, Ron wasn't so smart.

"Why are you sitting here?" he snapped, and both Hermione and Draco jerked their heads up. The red head looked flustered, as if he had been told Snape was his real father.

"Would you rather I dragged Granger to sit with the big bad Slytherins for breakfast?" Draco cooed with a smirk. Ron reached for his wand, but Lavender placed her hand on his arm. Ron reluctantly backed off, but Draco was just getting started. _Weasel and Potty should realize how much they've alienated Granger,_ he thought._ They don't get to be in denial. _"Then again, that's what you've been doing all week, not saving her a seat and all." This was exactly what Hermione had feared. She was highly tempted to smack him on the back of the head, but for some reason she wanted to hear what her two friends would actually say in their defense. Harry jumped in.

"We never ditch Hermione!" Draco's eyebrows rose, but he didn't rush to arm himself out of a newfound respect for the girl next to him.

"Then why is it that I'm magnetically attracted to her?" Fortunately, no one got a chance to think of a retort, since the daily Owl post arrived. They all instinctively looked up, although the only person to receive anything was the blond. A harassed looking owl descended through the crowd to land in front of his plate, carrying two scrolls. One was sealed with a Hogwarts crest, while the other the logo for St. Mungos. He tried to stare it down, but the owl clucked its beak impatiently, and bit his finger, on the hand covering Hermione's. The boy yelped and drew his hand away, looking for blood. Knowing this would trigger the attraction, she placed her hand on his shoulder so as to deflect it before it started. Ginny leaned over to pull away the two scrolls as Draco hissed at his now bleeding finger, while pulling out his wand to heal it. She gave them to Hermione, who waited patiently for him to stop whimpering before handing them to him. He unfurled the Hogwarts scroll first, figuring it the lesser of two evils.

Hermione watched as his face grew darker and darker. She knew what ever was written on that parchment was not good news, and her uneasiness grew. The other three weren't watching, but she could see sadness well up in the gray depths of his eyes. However stoic his face remained, there was something wrong. But he silently rolled up the scroll and dropped it into his black leather bag, along with the unopened second one, and stared at his knees.

"What is it?" Hermione whispered quietly. Looking at the two boys across from them to check they weren't listening, he turned slightly in his seat to whisper,

"Get me _out_ of here," in return. His tone was urgent, and she mover her hand back down to his, concerned.

"Follow my lead." She turned back to the other three. "Well, you'll have to excuse us, we're off to the library to do research." The two boys shrugged as Hermione stood up. Draco stood us next to her, his grip on her hand much tighter. "See you later." He had already begun to stalk away, eyes focused on the doors. She trailed along after him, seriously fearing whatever he would tell her when the doors closed. As soon as they exited the hall, he gently closed the doors with a small click, before turning his back to Hermione and climbing the marble steps of the stairway.

"Draco, what is it?" she asked quietly. He ignored her and continued climbing, his expensive shoes clacking with every step. This was familiar; Harry had done this when Sirius had died. But who did Draco have left to lose? "Draco!" He was on the top step now, still walking. "DRACO!" He gave her no reaction. "Oh honestly!" Making sure they were both a safe distance from the stairs, she wrenched her hand from his steel grip, causing him to come catapulting backward onto her. Groaning, he struggled to find her hand, but she didn't give it to him. Frantic now, he let out a frustrated sounding growl. She stared up at him (easy to do seeing as he was straddling her stomach) and told him, "I'm not letting you get up until you tell me what's wrong!" He made another dive for her hand, but she rolled away, causing him to topple over, with her on top of him as well as pinning down his hands. He couldn't even manage to glare at her. Instead he lay his head down on the stone floor and firmly shut his eyes, forcing back so much emotion. "Please Draco. What happened?" Her voice was soft, loving. It reminded him of his mother. That did it, a small tear leaked from the corner of his eye.

"Oh no, Draco, don't cry. Don't cry, let me help you."

"She's gone. My- my mother, she's just- gone," he whispered, hesitantly opening an eye. Hermione's eyes weren't filled with hate or pity, just concern. "I knew it was coming, but- but I didn't even get to say good- goodbye." His words were so frighteningly innocent, so human. She knew Harry would hate her for it, she knew Ron would never accept it, but she really wanted to comfort this… this lonely friendless _boy_ with no one to turn to. Slowly, she found his wrist and squeezed it gently, before rolling off him. Hermione stood up and supported his back as he did the same.

"Follow me, we're going somewhere."

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**A/N: As of now, I have only written the fourth chapter, so I will not be updating quickly. So keep reviewing, and keep checking for more updates! Speaking of which, you guys are so awesome! Two chapters and 45 reviews! At this rate I'll have 100 in no time! **

**Teaser?**

'This is mudblood Granger,'_ he reminded himself. _'She's just a mudblood! Just a filthy mudblood.'_ But suddenly he wasn't so sure.'_

**Final Word Count: 3,547 (Long!)**


	4. A Rush Of Blood To The Head

**A/N: Ok, I know that I got that last chapter up late, and I'm really sorry, it's just that this is a really hard story to write and I had a huge case of writer's block. So anyway, I hope that it didn't bother you that much. Well anyway, here's the fourth chapter, and I hope it's as good as you all expected it to be. And just a warning: DON'T BE ALL PISSY ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER! YOU WON'T KNOW WHY YET, BUT BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY THAT THIS IS NOT THE END! **

**Disclaimer: Hermione: Oh, cheer up Draco.**

**Draco: Mmph.**

**Hermione: Please?**

**Draco: Mmph.**

**Me: If you smile she'll kiss you!**

**Draco: (Grins)**

**So anyway, I don't own Harry Potter. **

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**Chapter 4: A Rush Of Blood To The Head**

Draco didn't say a word to her as they walked toward the school lake through the October drizzle. **(A/N: I can hear you all going _oh!)_** He just watched his feet as they slopped through the mud. The moisture didn't bother him, so he remained silent. Hermione didn't say anything either, as she was just trying to remember where the dock was…

When she found the old wooden dock hidden in a cluster of trees a little ways away from Hagrid's hut, she immediately began to rattle off spells to dry off the dinky little rowboat tied to the end of it. She made it stronger and dried it off. Draco just watched in silence as per usual, wondering how she knew about this place. Only he knew about this place, even in his dreams there was never anyone else. Except for the previous night, he reminded himself. She'd been there with him.

"Come on," she gently urged him, and he grudgingly sat down at the bench spread across the vessel. Hermione sat down on the back edge, pulling out her wand to power the hull into the middle of the lake. Draco tilted up his head so the raindrops splashed onto his face. The drops made little plips as they hit the surface of the water. Hermione watched him. With each little droplet that hit his head, his blond hair became more and more like silver. He looked like a black and white photograph, and the rain made time slow down, as if she was watching a grainy video. It made the situation seem surreal, which it totally was. She was holding hands with _Malfoy_, whose tears were mingling with the rain sliding down his nose. Her wand served as a motor, driving them out into the black lake, away from the school. He needed distance first.

"I haven't come out here for years," he finally said, just staring out over the water. She didn't respond; if he would talk then she would listen. He sighed and bent over, dipping his hand into the water. "I haven't had time since first year." She could relate, he knew she could. He didn't need to be her best friend to notice how frazzled she had been during their third year. He'd never gotten a chance to ask why.

"Same here," she responded, blinking away the rain from her eyelashes. "Time just flies by." He nodded, as she pulled her wand away to slide it back in her pocket. They drifted before coming to a stop. She pulled her bag into her lap and sorted through it with her free hand. When her hand emerged, she held a small rectangular white cube, with a strand of plastic that had a little plastic bubble looking circles on the end. (A/N: Hm, what could that be?) Draco stared at it curiously, but had no snarky comment to offer, as she pushed a couple buttons and the screen lit up. She mumbled a few charms, somehow inserted the white cord into the strange device, and ran her finger over the click wheel. "I don't know if you'll like this, but it always makes me feel better when I'm upset." He didn't respond, so she gave him a final look before pushing the play button on her iPod, and felt her tense shoulders relax as the first line of "A Rush Of Blood To The Head," by Coldplay burst from her speakers.

_You said I'm gonna buy this place and burn it down, I'm gonna put it six feet underground. You said I'm gonna buy this place and watch it fall. Stand here beside me baby in the crumbling walls._

Draco watched as she quietly sung along, closing her eyes. It was making him feel better. Not the music, but just being there with her.

_Oh, I'm gonna buy this place and start a fire. Stand here until I fill all your hearts desires. _

He found he couldn't look away as she sung, her wavy and now damp hair swinging into her face. She was oddly fascinating, unlike any other girl, that was for sure. Why was it so hard to pull his eyes away all of a sudden?

_Because I'm gonna buy this place and see it burn. And do back the things it did to you In return._

It wasn't as if she was stunningly beautiful, with plain brown eyes and hair. Her features weren't ugly, just… standard. But he couldn't think of a time he'd been this star struck. He couldn't stop watching her.

_You said I'm gonna buy a gun and start a war, if you can tell me something worth fighting for. _

_This is mudblood Granger,_ he reminded himself. _She's just a mudblood. Just a filthy mudblood._ But suddenly he wasn't so sure. _Just a… just a_, but his train of thought trailed off as her lips moved slowly and she continued, blissfully unaware of his scrutiny.

_Oh and I'm gonna but this place is what I said. Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head._

Her lips were just like anyone else's, but they seemed the opposite. _But she's a… a…_ And yet she was human, no different from anyone else. If she ever bled, he was suddenly certain that her blood would be pure red, not at all muddy or different from his own.

_Honey, all the movements you're starting to make. See me crumble and fall on my face. And I know the mistakes that I've made. See it all disappear without a trace. _

In that moment, Draco couldn't remember why he hated Hermione. She was suddenly flawless in his eyes.

_And they call as they beckon you on. They say start as you need to go on. Start as you need to go on. Start as you need to go on._

_My god, do I fancy Granger?_ He asked himself, not aware that he was running his thumb across the top of her hand. She cracked an eye, not commenting on his look of amazement and choosing to continue her song with more confidence.

_Said I'm gonna buy this place and see it go. Stand here beside me baby watch the orange glow. Some'll laugh and some just sit and cry. You just sit down there and wonder why._

The rain was blurring his vision, but he didn't close his eyes in fear that she would disappear. He wouldn't be able to keep her for himself, the moment would end, and she would go back to her Weasel worshiping bookworm self. He wouldn't get this singing _goddess_ back.

_So I'm gonna buy a gun and start a war, if you tell me something worth fighting for. I'm gonna buy this place is what I said. Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head. Oh, to the head._

Her voice from his dream came back full force suddenly. "For now just… just enjoy the moment." The moment wasn't one of happiness, and it wasn't one of relief. It was a moment of understanding. Hermione understood exactly what he needed. So when he leaned forward and brushed her lips with his own, she didn't push him away. The kiss wasn't forced, but it wasn't one of love or lust. Draco found solstice in it, and she let her iPod and headphones drop to the floor as he wound her hand into her hair. Hermione wasn't slutty, but she didn't care that he wasn't in love with her, that as far as she knew he was using her to make himself feel better. The kiss felt good, so she deepened it, and rested her hand on his knee, as he placed his own gently on her hip. To her it didn't mean anything, as she thought it didn't for him.

But it did mean a lot to Draco. Heck, he'd kissed his share of girls, and probably kissed someone else's share of girls as well, yet this one felt different. Hermione was a Gryffindor, a know-it-all, the best friend of the-boy-who-lived-to-annoy-him, and one of the figureheads against Voldemort. A lot had changed over the summer, including the death of Draco's father and the defeat of the Dark Lord, but not enough to make this acceptable in the eyes of Slytherins and Gryffindors. But all that just made this more exciting for them. _I suppose this answers the "do I fancy Granger" problem_, Draco realized, as the attraction brought a small pull between them and Hermione moved to sit next to him to accommodate it, never breaking contact. Coldplay sung on without her accompaniment.

_Coz honey, all the movements you're starting to make. See me crumble and fall on my face. And I know the mistakes that I've made. See it all disappear without a trace._

It scared him a bit that for once it seemed he was the one whose feelings were unrequited. She was kissing him because she was caught up in the moment, because it helped him. Ironically, this was just a rush of blood to the head for her, and when it ended, it wouldn't be resumed or talked about again. But he didn't want this to be a onetime thing!

And they call as they beckon you on. They say start as you need to go on, as you need to go on, as you need to go on.

So Draco just enjoyed the moment, knowing full well that he might never get it back. She was a good kisser, regardless of her lack of experience. At least she could never forget this, she couldn't. It was her first kiss, as far as he knew. But he pulled away, knowing the longer this went on and the more passionate it got, the harder it would be to stop and the more depressing it would be when he never got it back. She smiled at him, confirming without words what he already knew. He couldn't look at her, knowing that her heart would always be with Weasely. So instead he placed his forehead against hers and whispered,

"Thank you," before taking her hand and shifting to take her now empty spot at the back of the boat. Hermione had expected this, and just quietly sung along with the last stanza of the song, while he began to power them back to the school.

_So meet me by the bridge. Meet me by the lane. When am I going to see that pretty face again? Oh, meet me on the road, meet me where I said. Blame it all upon a rush of blood to the head._

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

The two teenagers had been excused from classes for the day so Draco could morn, not that he showed his emotion again. His face was contorted into its normal grimace as he poured over a book about health spells in the library. Most students were in class, so the two teenagers took advantage of the quiet to get some work done. So far, he had discovered the solution to their 'bathroom issues,' and several other spells, including one that could make Hermione's possible feminine problems, that hopefully they wouldn't have to deal with if they were able to separate before that time of the month, easier to deal with.

Meanwhile, she was pouring over a book on elemental magic and the possible side effects. Draco watched as her face began to grimace like his own as she read the section on the Charge Switching Spell.

"Problem Granger?" he drawled, doing his best to keep up his Malfoy front. She didn't look up, but instead scowled at the book and mumbled,

"I would say so." She groaned and covered her eyes with her hands. Intrigued, he slid the book towards him and twisted it so he could read it. Hermione let her head drop to rest against the table, closing her eyes. Draco skimmed the passage, outwardly smirking, but inwardly swearing. He read it out loud.

"While usually the Charge Switching Spell has no side effects, there is the rare occurrence when the spell chooses not to alter the magnetic field of the object, but the spell caster or spell casters themselves. Not much is known about this occurrence, but it is said that the only way to reverse the side effect is for the magnetic attraction or resistance between the two persons to match the relationship between them. Only then can the spell reverse. If the two persons have a strong friendship or actual romantic love, than the Charge Switching Spell reversed." He smirked, looking up at the upset girl across from him. "Well, you were right. we do have a problem."

"We're gonna be stuck like this forever," she moaned. Draco stiffened, _yes, just a rush of blood to the head._

"No we're not, we'll figure this out," he said, leaning over the desk to pull her hands away from her eyes. She let him clasp both her hands in his own, and continued glaring at him.

"Oh yes, because we both harbor a secret love for each other, right ferret?" she asked sarcastically.

"No comment," he spat in return. She took it to mean no, ripping her hands from his. "Look Granger, I like this as much as you do, but we have to deal with this one way or another! For now let's just do our homework and keep up appearances!" He pulled his book bag out from under his chair and slid out his textbook. "I hate holding hands with mudbloods as much as the next guy, but if I'm stuck with you, then I accept that. My reputation as a Malfoy comes first, so if upholding the family name and keeping my dignity means snuggling up with the likes of you every night, then so be it." He tore through the pages to land on the latest lesson.

"You know, if that hadn't been completely backwards and racist, I would have complemented you on your sudden maturity," Hermione hissed in response, clenching her fists underneath the desk. When he looked up from the textbook he saw unadulterated rage in her eyes, though her face remained stoic. _One step forward, two steps back,_ he realized. He'd gone too far, but instead of apologizing he bit back,

"Did you expect anything else?" Her knuckles were turning white and he slapped on his smirk, though it wasn't heartfelt. "I thought you knew me better than that, Granger!"

"I thought I did too, Malfoy. Especially since you just played tonsil hockey with me out on the lake," she spat, her chocolate eyes boring into his own. He looked away.

"You're just pissed that I stole your first kiss." She blanched, tears suddenly welling up in her eyes.

"Don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong."

"Oh but it does belong. I took your metaphorical innocence." Her face grew even paler, as he wondered why it was such a big deal for her. "Oh cheer up, mudblood. you should be happy your first was with me and not Potty or Weasel. I've got talent and experience." He would have given anything to know what she was thinking at that moment. She looked furious and yet lonely and mournful. Something was telling him he didn't know the full picture.

"You have no idea what you're talking about, Malfoy. Now go back to work and _leave me alone_." Her voice was shaking and distant. _Apologize damn it, _he thought but the words didn't come. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, just say it!_

"I thought I already told you I don't take orders from mudbloods." _Oops, slip of the tongue._ She merely blinked.

"I thought I already told you to get used to it." _There we go, bitchy Granger's back in action._ Hermione tugged the strap of her backpack and pulled it into her lap, rifling through the dozens of books as her face slowly returned to its normal color. A frown replaced her scowl as she realized that she had leant her potions book to Ron the previous night, since his had been to hard to read after an old Exploding Snap deck burnt the words. "Damn. What time is it?" He glanced at his watch.

"12:37."

"Free period. I need to get my book back from Ron, so get ready to go, ok?" She slid all of her papers back into her bag and took his hands so she could put her shoes back on. He didn't move.

"Wait wait wait. Does this mean I get to see where Gryffindor tower is located? Sweet!"

"I suppose so. Now get up and get your stuff together." Gleefully he sprung up, shoved al his materials back into his bag, and magicked his shoes onto his feet. Then he obediently followed her out of the library, pausing only to glare at assorted students who watched them pass. The walk wasn't exactly enjoyable, but he didn't try bothering her, figuring that he'd done enough to annoy her for the time being. When the reached the fat lady, Draco watched the portrait curiously, and waited to hear the password. However, before she gained entrance to the common room she turned to him and said, "Nonemprasa Silencio." His mouth dropped open. She only smirked.

"Granger, remove this spell immediately!" She shook her head and said,

"No, that won't do! That won't do at all!" Not that he heard her; she'd taken his hearing temporarily. "Silencio." And now he couldn't speak. Brilliant. Pleased with her work, Hermione turned back to the portrait and said, "Courage." He climbed through the wall after her.

"Hey Mione!" Harry called from the fireplace, his face warm and joyful. Ginny sat next to him on the rug across from Ron. They were all playing chess, with Ginny aiding her boyfriend. They waved her over, but froze when they saw who was behind her.

"Why'd you bring him here? He can't come in here!" Ron whined, glaring at the blond as he looked around the room, a disinterested frown on him face.

"Relax Ron, he can neither hear nor speak at the moment, so it's not like he can do much." She pulled Draco along behind her and sat down on the couch behind Harry. They all looked doubtfully at him, but trusted Hermione's spell work and judgment. He leered at them. "Anyway I just need my potions text book so I can work on my essay."

"Sure, I'll go get it." Ron stood up and brushed off the seat of his jeans before passing them to begin walking up the stairs to enter the boy's dorm. He didn't get far however, because Lavender climbed through the portrait hole and yelled,

"Won Won!" He spun around, a smile already plastered on his face. Hermione stiffened, her grip on Draco's hand tightening. He looked over his shoulder to watch the blond girl bounding over to meet the blond halfway. They greeted each other in passionate lip lock. Harry and Ginny seemed to be used to this, but Draco could feel Hermione's uneasiness. Just to see what would happen, he curled his arm around her shoulder. No one noticed, and Hermione didn't bother to remove it. She just continued glaring at the couple. Finally he realized that he could still do nonverbal magic (duh) and slowly pulled out his wand so the girl next to him wouldn't feel the couch shifting.

_Nestesparous separatous,_ he recited silently, and with a loud bang, Ron and Lavender were thrown away from each other, each falling on their bums several yards apart. Hermione's head shot up and she glared at Draco, shrugging off his arm. He gave her an innocent smile.

"Damn it, Malfoy!" Harry yelled when he saw Draco snickering as Ron helped a moaning Lavender up off the floor. He didn't hear him. Hermione watched as Harry pulled out his wand, growling under his breath, and walked towards them. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all… "You can't just come in here and get into our business!" Now Draco was flicking back his hair and winking at a group of sixth year girls. They giggled.

"Harry, he can't hear you," Hermione reminded him, while giving the boy next to her a nudge in the shoulder. He started and looked up at the murderous boy behind him, his flirtatious smirk becoming amused.

"I don't care Mione! I've had enough of this arrogant git!" Sensing what was about to happen, Draco pulled his wand back out of his pocket and tugged Hermione up with him. He didn't point it at Harry; however, and just let it hang by his side. She got her wand out as well.

"But that gives you a huge advantage, Harry! That's just as bad as attacking someone when their back is turned!" She protested. Ron joined Harry's side, wand aimed.

"Just like he did to me?" the red head growled.

"Go ahead, take your spells off him, Mione, if you want it to be a proper wizard's duel. I got a lot of practice over the summer, what with killing Voldemort and all."

"Fine! Finite Incantantum!" Draco sighed as his hearing came back. The two teens across from him sent him death glares as he clucked his tongue disapprovingly.

"Bad Potter! Didn't you realize that if you fire off jinxes at me then you could easily hit Granger? And Weasely, your aim is so bad that you'd do more damage to the sofa behind me than me." Ron lunged at him, but Harry grabbed him by the collar.

"Stop Ron, you'll just hurt Hermione," Harry grumbled, through you could see he pined to just let go of his squabbling friend and let him kick the stuffing out of the arrogant boy before them.

"Oh honestly!" Hermione huffed, glaring at the three. "Come on Malfoy. And Ron, get me that book before dinner." Then without a second glance she dragged the still cackling Draco out of the common room, nearly stepping on Colin and Denis Creevy as she stalked out.

"I can't believe you," she hissed once they had climbed back out of the portrait hole. He just blinked, still smirking.

"What can't you believe? How stunningly sexy and witty I am?" He swung their hands gently back and forth.

"More like how arrogant and vile you are. You know you have _some nerve_. I trusted you and thought you could stop being an ass for _five minutes_ while I got a book from a friend. And what do you do?" She pointed her finger accusingly in his face. He took a small step back. "You embarrass me in front of my friends to the point where if things had gotten a chance to escalate I could have been hurt! What the _hell_ is _wrong_ with you?" Boy was she upset. Her hands were shaking and each breath she took was sharp and loud. _Damn it, apologize_! He thought. _Do it, swallow your pride and do it!_

"I don't understand, Granger. You should know better by now than to trust me!" _What the & is wrong with you? Why didn't you apologize?_ He yelled to himself. There was no doubt she would slap him. Hell, she should punch him. He would let her! Her bottom lip was quivering now, as she impatiently blew that stubborn lock of hair out of her eyes.

"I'm not even going to reply to that," she finally said, her voice suddenly smooth and emotionless. Then she readjusted the strap of her backpack and turned defiantly on her heal, before dragging him back to their common room.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**A/N: Well, they kissed, they forgot, and they fought. Feed back? Flaming? REVIEW! And by the way, you should all keep your eyes open for a little secret of Hermione's that takes center stage in later chapters. Teaser?**

_And for the first time in a very long time, Hermione cried._

**Next chapter is MAJOR! Laters!**

**Final Word Count: 4142 (OMFG!)**


	5. Not Without A Fight

**A/N: I'm so happy with the response I'm getting! 109 reviews for four chapters! You guys ROCK! But just a warning, from here on the plot takes a major turn. Well, no one read that so let me say it again. LOOK OVER HERE! MAJOR PLOT TWIST IS REVEALED IN THIS CHAPTER, BE AWARE! Now that that is settled, read on!**

**Disclaimer: Draco: I'm bored.**

**Hermione: You're always bored.**

**Draco: Well, entertain me!**

**Hermione: What am I, your slave?**

**Draco: That's an idea! –Gets lost in thought-**

**Hermione: -Scowls-**

**So anyway, I don't own Harry Potter. Don't sue me.**

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**Chapter 5: Not Without A Fight**

Never in his life had Draco Malfoy been more confused. He had no parents, no family, no friends, and no idea what to do next. St. Mungos had said that all of his parent's money was now under his control, as well as all property they had owned. It was up to him to decide what he wanted to do now, with no father to restrain him. Since Voldemort was gone, he had no forced responsibilities in that area either. He could now do anything he wanted to, with the aid of the Malfoy name and figurative credit card, but now he had no idea what he actually wanted.

Of course add to that the pretty, snooty, bookworm best friend of the boy-who-just-wouldn't-die, who also happened to be muggleborn, and he was in an even worse situation. Hermione sat across from him with a book titled Everything A Desperate Wizard Should Know and a huge scowl. Her brow furrowed and lips putting, the teenager couldn't bare to admit that she was the best thing in his life as of that moment.

Draco propped his head on his palm, absorbing the silence and moment of temporary peace. Soon she would look up and hex him for staring at her, so he took his chance and observed the way his roommate looked at that moment, with her hair spilling out from its ponytail to fall into a curtain across her face. Every once and a while she would raise a hand to push it back behind her ear, but it would always fall back into place. As the spell wore off her hair was beginning to frizz again, but he didn't replace it, instead wondering what it would be like to run his hands through that hair, and what she would do if he were to do it now.

Shifting his head onto his other palm, he pondered what would happen if Hermione actually ever told Weasely that she had feelings for him. It was doubtful that she would ever get up the courage, but the musing was still interesting. Although he refused to admit it, it was also fairly frightening. Weasely would be too dumb to think and realize how amazing she was, but say he did, say he left that Brown trollop, would he, Draco, be disappointed? Would he regret not leaping over the table and kissing her when he had the chance? Would he even notice?

Of course he would notice. It would plague him for years if he ever opened a door to see them snogging in a broom closet. _But why?_ He asked himself. _Why can't I tease her and insult her? Why now? _ There was also the question of why he kissed her out on the lake, but he didn't even want to start on that. He had tried making excuses, but he knew that he hadn't done what he had because he was emotionally unstable, or because he was lost and confused. Excuses didn't work, because he couldn't deny that the only time he had ever felt sure of something was when she sat next to him on the bench, rain pouring down on them, her hand place gently on the back of his neck. He hadn't been so comfortable and safe before in his life, and that small stubborn part of his brain mocked him for accepting that he wouldn't get that back. It was the same part that insulted him for not catching the snitch before Potter. He didn't want to think those were related.

That lock of hair fell into her eyes again and she shoved it back impatiently, not even looking up from her heavy book. Any other guy would have taken a hint and realized that they had no chance with a girl who refused to accept that she was stuck in immediate contact with him. But Draco was not just any guy, he was a stubborn, stuck up, prejudice Malfoy, and wouldn't give up. There, it was decided.

_But what now, how do I get her to forget about him?_ He wondered, watching as she continued nibbling on her lower lip.

"Did anyone ever tell you how pretty your eyes are, Hermione?" he cooed earnestly. Blast, not only am I jealous of Weasely but that sounded like him too! Ug, fix it Draco, fix it. She looked up, her face blank.

"Stop trying to seduce me to get back at the guys. Don't flatter yourself, because you know it won't work." As she turned back to her book, a surge of anger welled through Draco, directed at Weasel and Potty. This girl had been looked over so many times because of them that she couldn't even separate a compliment from a plan for revenge!

"I wasn't trying to seduce you, I was trying to be nice," he told her, his voice lacking its normal moneyed drawl. Hermione didn't even look back up.

"What ever you say." _Oh this is pitiful. Draco Malfoy, prince of Slytherin, can't even get Granger to look at him,_ that little voice teased. He refused to call that part of him his conscience.

"Is it so hard for you to believe that I'm not always a bad guy?" With an aggravated sigh, she turned her page.

"I've gone back and forth. Now if you'll excuse me I want to finish this book before you drag me out to your quidditch practice." Ah, quidditch would prove to be interesting. He couldn't play for obvious reasons, but Zambini would be able to play for him. However, he was still team captain and couldn't be replaced, as he'd said before. So the plan they had come up with was that she would sit quietly on the back of his broom with a deaf spell on, so that she couldn't overhear any of his tactics and tell Harry, and in return he would let them eat dinner at Gryffindor table first. He knew she had gotten a raw deal, but he didn't really care. And any normal person would rather fly than did with Potty and the dream team, so as far as he was concerned it was her problem.

He was already wearing his green and silver quidditch robes, nervous with anticipation. It wasn't as if she could go into the boy's locker room, and he would rather not have her stare at him while he fussed with his leather wrist guards, so he had magicked himself into his uniform while she had been rummaging around in his private library for a book that might help them. (A/N: Long sentence!) Draco wasn't even pretending to work on his potions essay, since it was Friday night and he wouldn't lower himself to that level of nerdyness. Instead he continued watching the studious girl before him, who was struggling to hide the rising level of panic within her.

"What is it now, Hermione?" he asked soothingly, pushing back his hair with his wrist.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not that good of an actress. Tell me what's bothering you." She sighed, sounding exhausted and stressed.

"As far as I can see there is no cure other than love." Then out of no where she picked up the heavy book and chucked it straight across the room, where it hit the wall and slid to the floor with a satisfying thud.

"That was a nice throw, you should be a chaser," he told her, his eyebrows raised. When she didn't answer he added, "What about that friendship thing? Didn't that book from the library mention something about a strong friendship?"

"Not surprisingly, the wonderful creators of elemental magic were not only annoying romantic but also small minded. The friendship thing would only work if we were both the same gender." She scowled at the kitchen table they had been working at as he let out a small laugh. "This isn't funny, Draco! We're doomed!"

"Oh relax, Mya. We're not dieing!" She looked up at him and smiled slightly.

"Mya? Where'd you get that?" She seemed caught up in a memory as he raised his hand to once again push back his hair.

"I don't feel like calling you Hermione, it's too long. And no way am I calling you Mione, that's Weasel's name for you. What, is Mya not good enough for you?" He tried to make his tone harsh, but it came out as more of a whine. She just smiled, looking at something over his left shoulder. Feeling completely paranoid, he turned around in his seat… but there was nothing there.

"No that's… that's just perfect." It was then that Draco realized Hermione wasn't just good at acting. She was writing a damn script and, like everyone else, was hiding a secret. **(A/N: Cough cough.)**

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

"Damn it Crabbe, are you trying to kill us? Hit the bludger you moron!" Draco yelled furiously as another bludger zoomed passed their heads. Hermione's grip around his stomach tightened and she squeezed her eyes shut, perfectly terrified. He couldn't blame her, what with the two idiots using their beater's clubs as swords, ignoring the two leather balls spinning around them. Goyle sped past them, as she whimpered onto Draco's shoulder. Below them Blaise Zambini was too busy scowling at the rain seeping into his cloak that he didn't notice the snitch fluttering by the goal posts. Draco, however, did.

"Come on Zambini, look alive! Watch the fucking snitch!" Jolted into life as if by lightening, the dark haired boy snapped his broom around and headed in the wrong direction. The rain picked up as a clap of thunder rang like a gong through the pitch. Hermione shivered, pressing her cheek into Draco's back. Though she could not hear it, she could feel its vibration. He mumbled under his breath, "We're doomed." The first bolt of actual lightening struck the ground with a nasty crack, causing the jittery bookworm to let out a muffled scream.

"Alright, that's enough for tonight, everyone just get inside," he yelled finally, as the girl behind him burrowed her face in the crook of his neck.

"Finite incantantum," he added quietly, just as another sinister rumble of thunder rumbled across the grounds. Hermione moved her head onto his shoulder, still shaking lightly.

"Are we going in now?" she breathed, her minty breath spreading across his cheek. Suppressing a shudder, he began to lower them slowly so as to not frighten her.

"Yeah yeah. Relax Mya, don't get your knickers in a twist." She was too scared to respond. This wasn't only petrifying and dangerous, but this dragged up memories. Ones that she didn't want to relive. Not now and not ever.

But fortunately and unfortunately, however you wish to view it, she didn't get a chance to ponder old memories because yet another lightening bolt sliced through the night sky. She gasped and somehow lost her grip on the teen in front of her, sliding sideways. Hermione screamed like a person under Crucio as she fell off the broom and plummeted downward and toward the mud below her, the pull of gravity stronger than that of the attraction. The sensation of the wind speeding past her didn't leave her any option but to relive those memories that had been long since ignored, and she closed her eyes, remembering that day 2 years ago.

Just before she could land on her back, however, a pale hand grabbed her wrist, and when she reopened her eyes she saw a petrified looking boy with pearly skin and silver hair, not the warm face and brown hair of the boy who's memory had been haunting her for years. He stared down at her, looking shocked and shaken but mostly confused as he lowered them the remaining five feet to the field, before setting her down on her feet and dropping his broom beside them. Then Draco wordlessly wrapped his arm around her and drew her into a tight hug. And for the first time in a very long time, Hermione cried, right onto his shoulder.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

She silently followed him through the darkened halls of Hogwarts back to their dorm, her head hung. Draco opened all the doors in their way for her and guided her up the steps with the care of a husband to his wife. He gently held her hand, pulling her around corners and corridors that all seemed to blend together in her eyes. She had come much too close to telling him tonight. She couldn't share this with anyone, they just wouldn't understand. The pleading look in her eyes as she pulled away from him on the quidditch pitch had told him she wouldn't share, and he respectfully nodded and brought her back to school.

Now they ignored the great hall as they climbed up the steps to their dorm. Seeing the one good thing in his life plummet stories below him had lead Draco to see that this girl needed someone to lean on, just as he did. Apparently the other two thirds of the golden trio could not be trusted with what ever it was that this girl was hiding. He hoped that by leading Hermione back to her rooms, he was showing that he could be. Watching that girl scream in terror and clamp her eyes shut as she dropped like a stone hadn't been the scary part of the evening for him, however. It had been the look of acceptance that had worked its way onto her face just before he had snatched her from her dreadful fate. She had given up fighting. She had let herself go. What on earth had happened to this _war_ hero that made her willing to great death? Why had no one noticed this before?

Because she was a damn good actress, and it takes one to know one. Her friends didn't comprehend the idea of split personalities. Useless Potter wore his heart on his sleeve and didn't understand what it felt like to be pulled in two separate directions. And Weasely? He was just another redhead in a long line of broke ass blood-traitors. And yet now he himself was a blood-traitor. Here came a new era of acting and masks. It was respecting and protecting the Malfoy honor against being happy and understood by the one person who seemed most like and yet most different from him.

There were new plot lines and characters and new costumes to this tangled script he had found himself in. Of course now the tale of his life was more like an unfortunate romance that hardly existed than one of honor and arguing families. It was more like Hamlet now than Romeo and Juliet. Though either way, both characters died in the end.

But they wouldn't die in the end, Draco wouldn't let that happen. Hermione trusted him now, she'd saved her life, and this new Mya depended on him. He would lead her through corridors and catch her when she fell. He wouldn't let that happen, he wouldn't let her give up hope and accept death. If she did that, then she would lose the one beacon of light in his life. It sounded selfish, but it was really just survival. For both of them.

He wouldn't give up without a fight.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**A/N: You all must be so confused right about now. I don't blame you, but all will be revealed in due time! The more watchful and sly should be able to figure out who and what it is Hermione's reminiscing about. –Smirk- And Draco and Hermione learn there's a fine line between love and hate in upcoming chapters. And keep reviewing! PLEASE! I like feedback as well, so any ideas (preferably about Ron, Harry, and Ginny) will be read and well received! That sounded like a machine… Please review after the beep! Haha. Teaser? I'll give you a few!**

_They both needed each other, and they both knew it. Attraction or not, they now both knew each other better than anybody. There was no turning back._

**Then later in that chapter:**

"_No, you're not real. I'm still dreaming," she said, still blinking. He raised his eyebrows. She rolled over onto her side so as to face away from him. "No. Any minute now I'll wake up and you'll be gone. I'm asleep, that's all this is. I'm dreaming and you're dead."_

**Mwaha, stumped you. And I'll give you one for the chapter after that.**

"_It's not the unrequited love that hurts, Hermione," he told her, his voice implying more than he meant it to._

**I'm so nice, three long teasers. Hopefully that should tide you over until I update again. Toodles! And update!**

**Final Word Count: 2899**


	6. Nobodies Slut

**A/N: I'm so happy you all like this fan fic! The response is great, and I've reached 100! YAY! Ok by the end of this chapter some of you may be confused, but if you READ CAREFULLY some of you may begin to figure out whom it is that Hermione's thinking of. And pay attention to colors. I know that sounded dumb, but trust me.**

**Disclaimer: Hermione: What are you staring at, Draco?**

**Draco: Nothing…**

**Hermione: Do I have something on my face?**

**Draco: -Drools-**

**So anyway, I don't own Harry Potter.**

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**Chapter 6: Nobodies Slut**

Getting ready for bed was much less awkward that night then it had been the previous one. Draco didn't make any snide remarks as she brushed her teeth, and had no observations to voice about her pajamas, which included a pair of black and yellow boxers, that he doubted belonged to Potter or Weasely. Likewise, she didn't object as he stripped back down to his own boxers and pushed back the covers of his green and silver bed. Quiet had never been a word he would have ever used in reference to Granger before, other than "I wish she'd stay bloody quiet," but now it was exactly what she was. For once he also thought of her as fragile and lost. Whatever secret she was using all of her energy to guard wasn't good, that much he knew.

The storm outside continued to flourish as they both lay awake in the dark, and every time the loud boom echoed through the stonewalls she would twitch uneasily. The noise and bursts of light didn't bother Draco in the slightest, but seeing her eyes shut each time would have made anybody sympathetic. Of course, the frequent clamping down on his hand didn't help any. So without hesitation, he took his free arm and slid it under her waist, before wrapping it around her and pulling her towards him. Her back molded into every curve of his front, aided by the attraction, as she leant her head against the crook of his neck. She didn't pull away. She had missed this feeling. Her jerking sieced, and when the next rumble of thunder came, she hardly noticed. She was safe, after all. That was what his intimate gesture of cuddling her said, _I'll protect you._ They both needed each other, and they both knew it. Attraction of not, they now knew each other better than anybody else. There was no turning back.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

"_Are you okay?" he asked, gripping her wrist as he slowly but surely pulled her up onto his lap. She was crying, bucket loads of salty tears mingling with the snow that clung to her pale blue dress robes. She couldn't look at him, feeling so ashamed. What had she been thinking? "Speak to me Hermione, are you okay?" He had had the sense to change out of his dress robes for god sake, why hadn't she? "Hermione?"_

"_I'm fine," she squeaked, her face scrunched up and wet as she sat awkwardly beside him on the broom, feeling his arm still wrapped around her shoulder. Why couldn't she stop crying? What on earth was wrong with her? Why had she jumped? He pulled her head to his chest where she sobbed about everything. Sobbed about Ron, sobbed about Harry, sobbed about Victor, sobbed about rejecting Neville, and mostly sobbed for herself._

"_Bloody hell you're not fine, you just jumped off the Astronomy tower!" His tone was soothing and mature. See, he understood her and he didn't even know her! They were descending now, but he didn't let go of her when their feet touched the ground. "Sh, sh, tell me what happened," he cooed, not letting her pull away from him. "Tell me and I'll help make it better."_

"_Ron just can't let m-me be happy! All h-he thinks about is-is this bloody compition and qu-qu-quidditch!" she stammered into his winter cloak, knowing she sounded childish but not really caring. "All of a- of a sudden I'm popular and-and interesting and hap-happy and he just has to r-ruin everything!" At that point the teen supporting her raised his hand to the back of her neck and soothingly rubbed a circle into it. "Why is it that-that no one notices m-me until I'm on-on the arm of a celebrity? And with that-that vile Rita Sk-sk-sketer woman positively every where I-I feel like no one even knew about-about me before this damn tournament!" He was reassuring, and he hugged her closely, resting his chin on the top of her head, since he was tall enough to do so, as she was only fourteen._

"_Whether that's true of not, you know it doesn't matter. Who cares about being noticed by everyone if you know someone notices you? That you've changed someone's life." That was an interesting point, she'd never thought of it like that._

"_But I haven't changed someone's l-life," she whispered quietly. He stepped back and cupped her shin in his palm, tilting her head so she was forced to look into his eyes. With a weak smile he told her,_

"_But you have changed someone's life. Me, right now. I was off having a pity party because my date fancied someone else when who do I see but an angel falling from the Astronomy tower. You can change someone's life without even knowing it. Now come on Mya, let's get you out of the snow before you freeze. How about one more dance at the ball before you go off to bed, hm?"_

That memory came back in the form of a dream whenever she wanted it least but needed it most. Her pitiful, unwarranted attempt at taking her own life had led her into a great friendship, and reminded her that there was always something that made it worth holding on just a day longer. Whether it is a gentle stranger who comforts you in your hour of need, or an enemy who protected you from lightning and thunder, she couldn't give up. So at 2am on Saturday morning, the 24 to be exact, she realized how close she had been to giving up that previous night. And yet a beautiful stranger who knew her better than anyone had once again saved her life. She'd gotten lucky, but this time she knew that it would end differently, simply because it had to.

So she snuggled closer to the second boy whose life she's changed, breathing in his calming scent. And Hermione fell asleep with the name of the first fresh on her mind. No, she wouldn't forget.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

When Draco woke up that morning, it felt like something had changed. There was the fact that he woke up first, and the fact that Hermione had slept in, but it was more than just the obvious. Something big had shifted, and this led him to believe that something was Hermione's guard. She trusted him, the ultimate type of a relationship in his opinion. Also the biggest type of inter-house unity, not that he cared about such folly.

Draco looked down at the seemingly innocent girl next to him, who was wrapped in his arms and snuggled against him. It was almost scary that they were like this; this was unknown territory. This wasn't where he was supposed to be here, not a Malfoy. It didn't make sense.

And yet it did make sense in some freaky way, because he really was the only person who could be here. It was confusing but it was like he understood what was going on for her. Well not really, he had no idea what had happened, but he just got the sense that he could relate. Plus she was letting her guard down for him. Why him? Up until about a day ago she didn't even know he had feelings! Less than 24 hours ago he'd hexed her friends! And yet she was on the verge of telling him something, he could feel it. The façade of bookworm Granger was slowly dropping, and he would be there when it fell.

She mumbled something sleepily, shifting her head. Draco was a light sleeper, and he had woken up when she had in the middle of the night. Of course he had never expected her to talk in her sleep, but she had surprised him, whispering something about a final dance as she breathed evenly in her slumber. How cute, she dreamed about Prince Charming and elegant balls in her sleep. Well at least he had something to tease her about. Not taunt her or insult her, just tease her.

"Fine really," she mumbled onto his shoulder, her eyes still closed. He shifted slightly, curious as to what she was dreaming about. "Don't say… say that. Nothings gonna… gonna happen to you." Huh, that's random. He blinked, wondering if he was in her dream. No, because then it would be a nightmare. Draco chuckled to himself. Hermione stirred gently, leaning her head back onto his shoulder as she warily opened her eyes. Her vision hazed as she got used to the sunlight streaming through the window.

"Morning Mya," he whispered softly, smiling earnestly for the first time in a while. His face fogged in and out of focus as she blinked repeatedly.

"No. You're not real. I'm still dreaming," she said, still blinking. He raised his eyebrows, feeling the approach of a smirk. She rolled over onto her side so as to face away from him. "No. Any minute now I'll wake up and you'll be gone. I'm asleep, that's all this is. You're dead and I'm still asleep."

"I assure you that I am not dead and you are not still asleep," he drawled, placing a hand on her shoulder before she could accidentally trigger the attraction. Hesitantly with one eye open, she turned, seeming afraid of what she would see.

"Oh, it's just you," she breathed, sounding rueful. She sighed and raised her left hand to cover her eyes.

"Apparently. Honestly Hermione, who did you think I was?"

"No one, just… no one." Well that gave him a clue as to what she was hiding. Kind of. Not really. "What time is it?"

"Dunno, I broke my alarm clock months ago." She was too sleepy to scoff, and instead found his palm before sinking into her pillow. "So I'm guessing we're sleeping in?"

"You guess correctly." So she fell back asleep, trying to force old memories away as she closed her eyes and tried not to come into such contact with Draco again. He, however, was now awake and knew he would have trouble shutting his eyes again not that he was up. Instead he sat up and pulled a random book off his bedside table, opening it one handed. Upon reading the first sentence, he realized that this was the book Hermione had brought with her the previous night. He flipped it over to read the cover of the small paperback, stifling a snicker as he saw the words 'A Princess Diaries" written in white script. So while Hermione stole an extra hour of sleep, he read the first half of the novel. Although he'd deny it if you asked, he found the muggle romance novel fairly entertaining as the main character ranted on about her troubles and obsessed over some guy named Josh Ricter. Who would have known mach ladies man Draco Malfoy would get sucked into such a book? Not Hermione. She chuckled sleepily as she opened her eyes to see him sitting in his underwear reading the pink book with what can only be described as a look of awe on his face. Upon seeing she was up he dropped the book off the side of the bed and began twiddling his thumbs, doing his best to look innocent. Sitting up beside him, she asked,

"So do you completely love Michael yet?" He scoffed and examined the nails of his free hand while she pulled her hair up with an elastic from around her wrist.

"If you haven't already noticed Mya, I am a man, and not a gay one either. And no, I am not in love with Michael because he doesn't hold a candle to Josh." She raised an eyebrow and leant her head against the headboard.

"How far did you get?"

"Just passed the part where he asks her to the dance." Nodding wisely, she sighed and wriggled under the sheets a little to free her legs.

"That explains that. You'll see soon that Josh is an arrogant plank, a lot like you in some cases." He once again noticed her worn boxers.

"Where'd you get those?" Hermione blinked and he rephrased. "Whose were those originally?" Sighing again, she tugged at the bottom of one of the legs, looking away from him. "There's not some hufflepuff going commando now, is there?" _Not anymore._

"It's a very long story."

"Um, Mya? It's Saturday, and we have no plans, _and_ we can't separate. I'd say we have all the time in the world," he observed, absentmindedly placing the tips of their fingers together. Much to his disappointment, she still didn't look at him.

"Let's just say it isn't a story I want to tell." Of course this did nothing but heighten his curiosity, though he knew he couldn't get her to open up by force. So instead he cranked up his Malfoy charm to the max. And what a stupid man he was. Giving a sly smile he drawled,

"Fine mudblood, tell me when you're ready. You know where I am," as he placed his foot on the side of her leg in order to lean his head back into his hands. Of course, he accompanied the act with a sly wink. However, instead of looking flattered and ready to melt, she let out a bitter laugh.

"Do you really think that you can get this out of me by insulting me and making a pass at me in the same sentence? You're more delusional than I thought! If I'm going to survive this hellish experience of a year in the life of Draco Malfoy, you have to realize that I am not, just another weak Slytherin slut who bends to your will." He scowled at her as she began to pick at her nails as if arguing with him was just another thing on her daily schedule. Which it was, so to speak.

"No, because you're Weasley's slut, aren't you?" Oh, he'd really hit the mark, hadn't he? She didn't look up from her nails but completely froze, her face scrunched up in the way it usually did when she was upset. Oh boy, he had hit her where it hurt.

"I am _no one's_ slut," she hissed murderously. He could have left it there. He could have easily picked up his book from the floor and pretended it had never happened, but he just couldn't fathom that. It didn't even occur to him.

"That's not what those suggest," he drawled instead, gesturing to her boxers. What happened next could have gone many ways. She could have yelled or cried or punched him. She could have hexed him, or murdered him or anything else. But instead she chose what no one else would have. She gave up.

"It doesn't matter. It's over, it doesn't matter." Her tone had a defeatist attitude, as did her expression as she looked down mournfully at her boxers. For once, he let the conversation drop, knowing more than he had before.

"Let's go have breakfast."

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**A/N: So, any guesses? I'm willing to hear them! But if I told you, don't comment in the review, I want it to be a surprise, though by the time I tell you, I'm sure you'll already know. **

**Anyway, I've got a new story, another Dramione. It's called Where White Meets Black, please check it out! **

**Teaser?**

"_Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. We both know my eyes turn elsewhere," she fired back. _

"_Oh really Granger?" he cooed, wondering where the limit lay. Draco took a risk and tugged his hand from hers, moving to place his palms pressed against the wall on either side of her head._

"_Yes really."_

**Wow, that's a long teaser, I'd better get reviews! Ha ha, next chapter rocks. Really. Really really. Toodles. REVIEW!**

**Final Word Count: 2732**


	7. Your Eyes Turn Elsewhere

**A/N: I know you're all just dying to know whom it is Hermione is remembering, but you'll all just have to wait another chapter. Then again, a few of you have already figured it out. It's not that hard, really people! But really, next chapter. **

**In the mean time, keep those reviews coming, they're awesome and I read every one. It's just so much fun to see my inbox full of reviews. Who knows, maybe I'll even hit 1000 one day.**

**Disclaimer: Draco: I know something you don't know, Potter.**

**Harry: And what would that be?**

**Draco: Little Granger is keeping something from you.**

**Ron: -Looks to Hermione- Is that true Hermione?**

**Hermione: -Scoffs and looks away- Don't listen to him!**

**Draco: Sure.**

**Ginny: -Giggles-**

**So anyway, I don't own Harry Potter.**

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**Chapter 7: Your Eyes Turn Elsewhere**

Their meal at Gryffindor table that morning went much like it had the previous day, with Ron scowling at them and Harry and Ginny struggling to create some kind of conversation. Draco stayed quiet, as did Hermione, their only words being "Pass the milk," and a curt hello and goodbye. When he was done forcing down a meal and quietly urging her to do the same, they bid a mumbled goodbye, not noticing Ginny's searching look. Once they had left, Draco asked what Hermione wanted to do. She shrugged, wandering aimlessly down the hallway at his side.

"Ok, let me ask again. What did you always want to do but couldn't because Potty and Weasel wouldn't let you?" She opened her mouth but he interrupted. "And don't say living in the library or that weird house elf thing." She thought long and hard, passing over all wants or ideas she'd had.

"Nothing really. I just went with the flow," she mumbled finally, realizing at long last she had been following Ron around like a puppy dog for the past two years. _I had my reasons_. Draco, sensing that this was not a time to mock her, quickly moved his arm around her shoulder, still walking down the hallway in without a particular direction.

"There must be something. Did you ever want to skinny dip in the lake or…" he waved his other hand vaguely as she raised her eyebrows. "Or try and hold a séance for Peeves of something?"

"Well I suppose there is one thing, but it's really random," she said, struck with a brain wave.

"The more random, the more fun," he responded, giving her a wink. She ignored it.

"You've been warned. I've always kind of wanted to fix up the shrieking shack," she told him, watching as he smiled disbelievingly.

"Nice joke Granger. But seriously." They turned a corner, still wandering aimlessly, to see a small group of Ravenclaw fourth years huddled together. He quickly moved his arm off her shoulder and grabbed her hand, doing his best to look inconspicuous. She sighed, and the group of girls looked up. The giggled as he passed, one even going so far as to wave to Draco. Ever the charmer, he winked back, causing the girl to swoon and lose her balance, leaning against the wall. Used to this behavior but not liking it all, Hermione growled lightly and pulled him down the corridor and into an alcove. "What?" he asked, looking down at her. She cursed his height.

"First of all, stop flirting with everyone with legs, it's really irritating," she hissed, narrowing her eyes at him. He began to smirk yet again.

"You jealous, Granger?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. We both know my eyes turn elsewhere," she fired back, not realizing it did more damage to him than intended. He scowled at her as if she were a bad potions grade.

"Oh really?" he cooed, wondering where the limit lay. Draco took a risk and tugged his hand from hers, moving to place his palms pressed against the wall on either side of her head. She stared defiantly up at him, as the attraction pulled his body against hers. Slowly he bent forward and leant his forehead against hers.

"Yes really," she answered curtly against his lips, knowing what was coming, and that it would be useful to push him away. When a Malfoy wants something, he doesn't stop till he gets it.

"Well, I highly doubt that," he whispered, before once again kissing her gently. Yet again, she didn't pull away.

He had missed this, and it hadn't come off his mind since yesterday. She was an amazing kisser, but this kiss was better than the first one. There was emotion, a crush on his part and a desire for more, with loneliness and pure attraction from Hermione. Draco leaned closer into her, moving one hand behind her head so it didn't hit the wall, while the other stayed pressed against the stone, supporting his weight to prevent him from smushing her. Hers wound around his neck as her eyes stayed firmly shut, causing her to miss the look of pure desire flaming in his own slate pupils. They both forgot they were in public, though no one was around, and continued on as they would if they were in their rooms, with Hermione wrapping her legs around his waist, without realizing she was doing it. The only thing preventing her from falling to the stone floor was his gentle push against her.

She moaned softly as he nudged her bottom lip with his tongue. The teenager allowed him entrance, her hand rising to tangle in his hair.

_Maybe Draco isn't so bad_, she absentmindedly thought, as he sighed into the kiss, carefully massaging the back of her neck as his hand strayed downwards. _But he's not- oh_, his train of thought faded just before she could even think of the name, as he pulled his lips away, leaving only a millimeter of air between them. He was panting and seemed as winded as she was, but a small smile wasn't hidden as he looked at her.

"Do your eyes still turn elsewhere, Mya?" he asked with a touch of sarcasm, cursing himself for asking such a weak question. Yet at the same time, he really wanted to hear her answer. Hermione, however, was suddenly plagued by a newfound wave of overwhelming guilt as she gazed into his hopeful eyes, remembering a pair so much like them that would never see again.

Flashback

"Are you feeling better, Mya?" the teenager had asked her, radiating concern as he sat across from her in the library. "Were you able to sleep at all?" It had made her feel so appreciated to have someone, a popular boy no less, asking after her. She had given him a smile and nodded. "I hope you know that if you ever need to talk I'm here to listen. Anytime, honestly."

End Flashback

What could she tell Draco now? That she could still be in love with a boy who died a little over 2 years previously? That her whole obsession with Ron was just something the lonely portion of her brain had talked her into? That she for once didn't know the answer? Of course not, he would get defensive and insult her or make a pitiful attempt at storming off. His mother had just died; she couldn't do that to him.

And yet at the same time, she didn't want to play along and break his heart. She wasn't Parvati, after all. No, she wouldn't give in to lust. That was below her. So instead she willed up all her Gryffindor courage and unwrapped her legs from his waist.

"Did you expect me to, Malfoy?" She could see his face harden into a sneer as he backed away from her, grabbing her hand. She had struck a nerve, and though his face was masked, his eyes were undeniably hurt.

"Don't be dense, mudblood. I just know that I'm that good of a kisser," he drawled back, his voice missing its kick. One step forward, three steps back, and all pet names and gentle supports were replaces yet again by formalities and insults. As he granted her one last scowl before pulling her out of the alcove and down the hall towards the library, she wondered if he really had actual feelings for her. There had been passion in the kiss, but love? Or even a crush? Doubtful. Then again, Hermione had begun to doubt a lot of things recently. Maybe it was possible. After all, everything seemed possible now. Maybe one day, she just might be able to tell Draco Malfoy the secret she'd been hiding.

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

Draco was beyond confused as he sat at a desk in the corner of the school library once again. The fat tomb resting in front of him had no new information about the attraction hidden away in its tiny font, but he wasn't sure that he cared. He had a bigger problem now, and that was the petite, mousy brown haired girl across from him. She didn't fancy him, while he found himself thinking constantly about her. Needless to say, this wasn't an arrangement he liked. What was wrong with her? Seriously, why wasn't _she_ staring at _him_?

_There's someone else_, he realized suddenly as she blew away that same impatient strand of hair. _And it's not Weasely, that's her secret._ He really wanted to know who this person was. Who was better than him? Sure his curiosity was fueled by arrogance, but still. _It must be the guy she thought I was, the dead guy!_ This was getting him nowhere, what guy, better than him, was dead? Probably a hufflepuff, if her boxers signified anything. _Think Draco, think! Who's died at Hogwarts while we've been here? Who's someone Hermione would look up to? Someone with honor. Someone who- oh._ Well, that's sure explained a lot. No wonder she was upset.

She wasn't working, her quill poised over the blank sheet of paper as if to write, but it hadn't moved, and a drop of ink had fallen from the tip onto the paper. She was instead just staring at the book open in front of her, but not really seeing it. Lost in thought, the girl's wavy hair fell delicately around her face, once again hiding in its shadow. She must have been trying to forget about him, thinking it too painful. There wasn't a way for her to tell her two friends; they would rattle on about enemies. But didn't that guy have a girlfriend? What a tangled web of lies she must have weaved. And yet once again he was the person to see through it. What was she thinking? About him, Draco, or the other guy? Was she even thinking about boys? She was a lot stronger than he had originally thought.

_I just hurt her_, he thought sadly. _I offered her a lifeline then tugged it out of her grip._

"I'm sorry for what I said," he told her quietly, having no trouble apologizing for once. She didn't look up, just continued staring at her book. "I didn't mean it."

"I know you didn't," she finally responded, not moving her focus from the random book in front of her. It didn't feel like enough, so he continued.

"You know you can tell me anything, Mya, right? I'm always here to listen." The irony of he situation and who had said those words before could have lead Hermione to laugh. But she didn't have the energy.

"Oh yes, Malfoy, because you'd love to hear rants about unrequited love from a mudblood." He winced, as she still made no move to look up.

"It's not the unrequited love that hurts, Hermione," he told her, his voice implying more than he had meant it to.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"It's not Weasely who keeps you up at night, is it?" Her face didn't defy her shock, it remained blank, but he could tell he'd stunned her.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but I can assure you I don't pine for you as I lie in bed." He stifled a snort, but didn't take the bait.

"We'll start on that later. Bu I'm pretty sure you do know what I'm talking about. You can admit it, you fell in love with-,"

"Oh honestly!" Hermione exclaimed, finally snapping her head up. She looked undeniably guilty. "Why is it that you have such a thirst for dramatics, Malfoy?" Students scattered among the surrounding desks looked over, curious as to what Draco had done to anger the head girl now. "Why can't you just pull your nose out of my business for one minute?" She glared at him, cheeks flushing as she realized she was yelling at him in public, but he wanted to grin. Dramatics? Ha! She'd just practically admitted it! Plus, he could see her walls crumbling; he could see the want to walk to someone building up in her brown eyes.

"Fine Granger, deny it. Just so long as you know that I'm here. I'll be here for a while." He lowered his voice so the eavesdroppers couldn't hear his final statements. "And when you're ready to stop hiding what your feelings are, I'll listen. I won't tell anyone about your little hidden love to a certain champion." His words came as a shock even to him, how fierce they sounded, so he dropped the smirk he had been wearing for a look of understanding and concern. She scowled at him, but didn't pull her hand away when he placed his over hers. "And I apologize for the dramatics."

"Apology accepted. Now get out your potions textbook so I can work on my essay."

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**A/N: Ok, there is no way you couldn't know about who that is by now with all the hints I've dropped. I'm still going to make you wait another chapter before she admits it, however, so in the mean time, keep reviewing! Anyway, how about a teaser to tide you over?**

"_I can't believe I'm talking to Draco Malfoy about love," she whispered to herself, closing her eyes._

**I know, that was random, right? Draco and Hermione have a late night chat about the most interesting subject. So anyway, review, long ones appreciated, and keep guessing (even though you all already know by now). Toodles.**

**Final Word Count: 2398 (Sorry)**


	8. Terrible Honesty

**A/N: Ok, I'm typing this about 5 minutes after I update chapter 7, so I can't thank you all for the reviews, but I know that you all won't disappoint, correct? -Tee hee-**

**And you should all go read my new fan fic Where White Meets Black.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Stop asking. It's not funny anymore.**

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**Chapter 8: Terrible Honesty**

The Slytherin table hadn't known what to think when Hermione sat down on the bench next Draco. So since they saw no other option, they ignored her, which suited her fine. Pansy had been most disappointed when he didn't allow her to sit in his lap during lunch, and instead had settled in across from them, glaring at Hermione as she held Draco's hand, (since it would be rude to take off their shoes at the table). When anybody made any snarky comments about the attraction Draco sent him or her a look that would have made even the late Voldemort cringe, before turning back to his meal. Hermione picked at her food just as she had at breakfast.

"You need to eat, Granger," Draco ordered her, his voice low so only the girl next to him could hear.

"I'm not hungry," she answered curtly, poking her chicken with her fork.

"Force down something so we can get out of here." She made no move to do so, so he scowled and stood up. They didn't mumble any goodbyes to the Slytherins as they took their leave, and Hermione ignored the Gryffindor table as they passed it. She was a little annoyed with the whole group; Ron could have easily saved her from Draco that first day in Charms class by saving her a seat. But then again, a little seed had been planted in her mind that maybe she wouldn't be better off with them.

The rest of the day passed without incident. They finished their homework together, with Draco sneaking glances at her and Hermione pretending not to notice. As was starting to be pattern, they had dinner in their common room, or at least she did. She continued to pick away at her meal. It did not go unnoticed, but he chose not to say anything. After living his life with his mother and father he knew that harping on her behavior would only upset her and drive her farther away, something he didn't want to do. However, he yearned to help her, force her out of her act of the perfect girl. She had put her mask back up, pretending nothing had happened.

They both remained without comment as they changed into pajamas and Draco didn't protest as he slid once again into her bed. Neither went to sleep as they lay on opposite sides of the mattress. He closed his eyes, but could only wonder what would happen on Monday, when they were forced to work in class. Potions shouldn't be that much of a problem, since Slughorn loved both of them and would be thrilled, and most of their teachers wouldn't give them trouble. Their so-called friends were what caused him to worry. Hermione was so fragile as she softly rested her cheek on the pillow, eyes shut, and Potter and Weasely would try and force her to sit with them, just to piss him off. They didn't really care. And what of the Slytherins? Draco was their leader, they would flock to him.

And yet why did he care? Because he did care about Hermione. It was fact now. She was all he could think about, everything else faded away. EH wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to have her look at him as if her was the only thing in the world. He much more than fancied her now. _Do I love Granger?_ He asked himself. He didn't know. See, this is where he needed his godfather Snape; he always knew these things about girls.

"Mya?" he asked softly about 10 minutes after they had shut out the lights. She didn't open her eyes, just mumbled,

"What?" Taking a deep breath, he asked,

"What did it feel like when you realized you loved… well, him?" Her eyes flew open in surprise. She raised her eyebrows.

"Are you joking? Why do you want to know?" Ah yes, there it was. The dreaded question.

"No I'm not joking. Just tell me." She sighed and searched his face for any sense of humor. His face was deadly serious.

"I can't believe I'm talking to Draco Malfoy about love," she whispered to herself, closing her eyes.

"Why is that so hard to believe? Just tell me!"

"Alright fine." He watched as she took her free hand and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Don't laugh."

"Why would I? I have a heart. I'm not all bad. Just tell me."

"It's terrible," she said finally, her voice quiet. "Because at that moment you realize your life will never be the same. Suddenly there's this person who's welfare is more important that your own. You can't focus and you can't think, because he's all there is." Hermione took another deep breath as Draco waited eagerly. Hopefully she would go off on a tangent and accidentally slip the name of a certain boy. He knew who it was, but he wanted to hear her say it.

"And you look at him and suddenly you know that if you ever loose him, you won't be able to go on." Ah ha! He'd gotten her. She was reminiscing and slipping.

"Nothing else matters, not friends, not family, not even grades. It's only him and everything else fades into the background." Ok, now he was a little scared. This was sounding a little too familiar. Her voice was breaking.

"And suddenly you would do anything for him, because you couldn't live without him." Maybe he was pushing her too far. Tears were pooling in the corners of her eyes. He raised his free hand and cupped the side of her cheek.

"It sounds positively dreadful," he offered, smoothing some of her hair back from her eyes. She gave him a weak smile and a humorless laugh before they faded.

"My god I miss him, Draco," she stammered helplessly, her defenses gone. That was easy. Without any hesitation he pulled her against him and held her head against his chest. "I just can't take it anymore, I want him back." Maybe he had a reason to be upset, his crush was crying because her love was dead, and couldn't care less about him, but at the same time he just didn't want her to be sad.

"Let it out, Mya. Let it all out," he whispered as she moaned into his chest.

"Why doesn't anyone notice? Why didn't Harry and Ron or anyone see I'm miserable? Why doesn't anyone care that I still love him?" she wailed, grateful that at least someone was listening. He rested his chin on the top of her head, wondering the same thing. "Doesn't anyone care about me? Doesn't anyone see I'm dying? I don't want to be the perfect head-girl! I don't want to pretend anymore! I just want to die! I just want to be with him again!" He stroked a finger up and down her spine, waiting for the inevitable climax. Her body was shaking as she had several racking sobs. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… "I need him back! I need my Cedric!"

There it was. She'd admitted it at last. She was in love with Cedric Diggory and someone knew. Draco Malfoy knew. The world hadn't ended! _Um… now what?_

"You'll see him again, Mya. You will, I promise," he whispered, kissing the top of her bushy head.

"I heard him, Draco, I heard him. He's behind the veil. I could hear him, he was so close, just behind the veil," she repeated, sounding as if it was a huge secret. He blinked, what veil? She struggled to harness in a fresh case of hiccups, her ragged breathing spreading across his chest. "It was like he was next to me, it was like he was just out of grasp."

"What veil, Hermione?" he asked gently, as if she would break into a thousand pieces if he spoke to loudly. She pressed a hand to his skin, trying to regain stability.

"That veil at the department of mysteries. It scared me; I was like drawn to it. I couldn't pull myself away. Ron couldn't hear it; only Harry could, so I pretended I couldn't. He would have thought I was crazy and asked who I heard, but I couldn't tell them, I couldn't!" Her voice was slowly becoming muffled and weak as her tears subsided.

"You're crazy, Mya. I believe you, you can tell me about it," he murmured, his voice alarmingly soft. But he didn't care. Everything was fading away, his family, his friends, and his responsibility. Suddenly her welfare was more important than his own.

"I don't want to pretend anymore, I don't want to be sad. He told me not to be. He told me to move on if anything happened to him. But I can't. Draco, I can't forget. It's impossible." He pressed his hand on the small of her back, once again amazed that he was in this situation. Yet he wouldn't have it any other way.

"It's okay. It's okay, I'm here. Draco's here." The idea that that would comfort her sounded comical, but it did. Her sobs continued to subside until the only trace of her melt down was the moisture soaking the sheets below them. Looking down he found she had cried herself to sleep.

Wow. Well, it explained a lot, but left him even more confused. 'Who' was answered, 'what' was next.

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

"_I hope you know that if you ever need to talk, I'm here to listen. Anytime, honestly," Cedric told her as she sat down at the library table across from him._

"_Thanks Cedric," she responded, nervously picking at the hem of her long skirt, wondering what to say. He was reading a book about underwater magic. She didn't ask why._

"_Alright, spill Mya," he said, sensing correctly that she was upset._

"_Ron's driving me crazy!" she started. "He just can't understand that I'm a girl! He got all flustered because all of a sudden I'm pretty and relaxed! And he thinks I can't make my own decisions and claims that Victor's using me! Honestly, why is he so immature?" she ranted, gesturing wildly with her hands. Cedric watched without comment, giving her his full attention. It made her feel appreciated. "And Harry just refuses to take my side! Why doesn't anyone think of what I want?" She gave up and rested her forehead against the desk, seething. _

"_Stop eating the table, you don't want splinters on your face," he advised with a small smile. She reluctantly pulled her head back up to watch him warily. "First of all, ignore Weasely. He's just annoyed that he didn't catch you first." She grimaced. "Believe me, he just has a weird way of showing it. Second of all, of course Harry sides with Weasely, he's his best friend, and he's also angry. As you said, Weasely is immature and doesn't understand you." She glared halfheartedly at him. He hastily added, "Because you're a girl, and he's just a confused hormonal boy. Just ignore him. And last, people do care about what you want. I care about what you want. So what do you want?" He finished, never taking his eyes off her, book abandoned._

"_I don't actually know."_

Hermione opened her eyes once again, smiling slightly at yet another memory of Cedric. What she saw was not what she expected. Draco Malfoy was asleep, lying on his back, with his arm wrapped loosely around her waist, his fingers lightly pressed against her bellybutton. Her cheek was pressed against his stomach, and his skin was warm and comforting. It was either very, very early or very, very late, and he was still blissfully asleep. With a gasp of horror, she realized she had cried herself to sleep. And he _knew_. He mumbled sleepily,

"Wait Mya." He was dreaming about her? How odd. Hopefully it was nothing bad or "mature". Eh, whatever, it was _his_ subconscious. He was still asleep, but he enunciated his words clearly. "The lake, please." Maybe he was reliving the memory of them on the lake? Maybe it was none of her business. She settled her head back down on his chest, not really caring that her nose was only inches away from the elastic of his boxers. All thoughts of Draco and Cedric dropped out her mind as she fell back into slumber.

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

"_You're back," Draco noted as he looked across the rowboat to see Hermione. She blinked at him, chocolate eyes looking slightly green._

"_Apparently," she responded, as he noticed that she was her normal age for once. "Did you think I wouldn't be?" He shrugged, sliding a finger over a crease in his black jeans. "Would you like me to leave?"_

"_No, stay," he told her softly, looking fascinated by a loose strand he had found below his knee. "It's nice to have company."_

"_Alright." He nodded as she shifted to sit cross-legged on the back rim of the boat. Then quietly she told him, "You shouldn't be afraid of Cedric." He jerked his head up, startled. She looked calmly back at him, face impassive. _

"_Why would I be afraid of Diggory?"_

"_Because I really care about him, and you wish I felt that way about you." He twitched anxiously as she placidly looked him up and down. "You shouldn't worry."_

"_Why shouldn't I worry?" he rocketed back, but she retained her peaceful demeanor._

"_I'll feel that way about you soon enough, you just have to be patient, Draco." He scoffed, flicking back his fine hair out of habit._

"_I doubt it, I'm nothing like Diggory. And you never got any closure."_

"_You are a lot like Cedric, you just haven't shown it. If I had no chance of falling in love with you, would Dumbledore tell you to cope with this? He would be out there looking for a cure. And think about this, Draco: I've opened up to you about things I've never even shared with Harry and Ron. I chose you. You alone can give me closure."_

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**A/N: Tee hee, I've finally said it. If you didn't know it was Cedric already, I must say I pity you. Really, most of my reviewers knew from the fifth chapter. Anyway, what's next?**

"_Would you still feel comfortable if I do this?" His voice was slow and almost teasing, but sent shivers down her spine all the same as he seductively slid his thumb under the edge of her tank top, stroking her skin._

**Confused yet? I guess you already know Draco gets a little flirty. –Snicker- Toodles!**

**Final Word Count: 2502 (better?)**


	9. Remembering

**A/N: I'm typing this on vacation, on the floor of my hotel room, so excuse me if I have any typos, because I'm in a really weird position. The keyboard is in my lap, and the notebook I'm typing from is at a really weird angle, so my apologies. Anyway, thank you for all of the reviews, I'm sure it wasn't a surprise that it was Cedric, but you never know. **

**By the way, you should all know that I'm leaving for a school trip on Tuesday, so chances are that I won't update again until late Friday night, or on Saturday. I will, however, try to make chapter 10 really, really long. I'm still writing it… **

**So on with the story, okay?**

**Disclaimer: Draco: Mya?**

**Hermione: What?**

**Draco: Never mind.**

**Hermione?**

**Well, it's needless to say that I am fresh out of ideas for disclaimers, so I'm obviously not JK. And I don't own Harry Potter.**

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**Chapter 9: Remembering**

Draco woke up on Sunday morning thinking today was any other day. The sun was streaming through the windows, his hair was ruffled lightly, and there was a girl in bed next to him. He must have had a good night, but he didn't really remember, he was still half asleep.

But looking down at the girl whose face was pressed against his stomach, he saw a fan of brown hair spreading across the red comforter. _Red_ comforter? _Brown_ bushy hair? Hermione stirred as he looked down at her, bewildered. She turned over to look up at him, her eyes still glazed.

"Morning Draco," she whispered softly, her voice slightly gravely from sleep.

"What the hell am I doing in here, Granger?" he hissed, his eyes narrowed. She raised her eyebrows.

"Excuse me?"

"How'd you trick me in here?" He shook his head back and forth, "You know what? It doesn't matter. I'll just go back to my room and we'll pretend nothing ever happened." Draco shoved the covers off them and nudged her head off his chest, before sliding out of the bed. He barely made it to the door before the attraction made it self known and they both were dragged back toward each other. She landed on her back on the carpet while he stumbled backwards before doing the same. They landed side by side as she grabbed his elbow. She sat up and glared at him.

"What are you, stupid? Did you just magically forget about the past three days?" With a groan he remembered, his cheeks turning pink.

"Sorry." Hermione rolled her eyes and leant her back against the side of the bed. He slid his hand down to hers and sat up, crossing his legs. "I guess it just, you know, slipped my mind."

"Do you just assume that ever girl wants to have sex with you, Draco? You open your eyes and see you're not alone and you just assume something happened?" she spat, causing him to cringe.

"No! I just want this to be over so much that I just wrote up in denial!" he fired back. A hurt expression marred her face. That wasn't what he'd meant to say. "Wait, that came out wrong!"

"No, that's just fine Malfoy. I understand," she answered curtly, averting her eyes. Hermione stood up, still holding his hand.

"No you don't understand Mya!" he yelled, pulling her back to him as she attempted to walk away. He got to his feet and looked down at her pleadingly as she glared defiantly up at him.

"What don't I understand _Malfoy_?" He faltered slightly, getting lost in her frustrated eyes. "Explain it to me!"

"You don't understand that I want the attraction to be over, not you. I don't want to lose you." He raised his hand to touch her cheek and let it slide down to her neck. "You shouldn't accuse _me_ of jumping to conclusions." Hermione's face softened noticeably. A small smile crept across her face and she suddenly pulled him into a tight hug, resting her head on his shoulder. He didn't resist and slid his arms around her waist, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, I'm sorry Draco. This is just really stressful and I panicked," she told him, thankfully not crying. He smelled the top of her head automatically. Apparently she had found a way to alter the scorgify charm to make it perfumed. She smelled like summer.

_Ha ha_, you've got it bad, his conscience observed as he protectively pulled her closer, aided by the attraction which wanted as little space between them as possible. _You're turning into a lovesick Hufflepuff! 'I don't want to lose you!' That's kind of an understatement, don't you think?_ He ignored he little voice to the best of his ability.

"Don't worry about it, Mya. What would you like to do on the last day of the weekend, hm? Anything you want." He relinquished his grip on her and she stepped back, holding his hand. With a nervous glance at the floor, she asked,

"Can we go fix up the Shrieking Shack like I asked yesterday?" He grinned.

"Riiiiiight. Yeah, I'll just go and ask the Bloody Barron if he has any spare wallpaper." She giggled lightly as he smirked.

"No, but seriously! I really want to!" His smirk faded into a perplexed smile.

"Should I stand here like an idiot and wait for you to explain why?" He asked softly as she bit her lip.

"Ok, what I'm about to tell you probably contains nothing you don't already know, but promise me it goes straight in the vault, right?" He nodded. "Do you remember Professor Lupin?" He looked up in thought as if tracing through all of his past professors.

"Third year, right? The werewolf?" He finally asked, wondering what he had to do with the decrepit house. She stiffened slightly.

"Yeah. Well, he went to Hogwarts as well when he was younger, and every full moon he snuck through a secret passage and into the Shrieking Shack to transform." Clearly things were beginning to click in his head. "The spirits people heard were just Remus during his transformation." He nodded, and then gradually began to smirk. "What?"

"I just remembered something Snape told me about his school days. He didn't mention names but he said he got bitten. It was some dumb ass prank of Sirius'." He raised an eyebrow, his smirk fading.

"And by Sirius I assume you're referring to Sirius Black?" She nodded. "Well that explains a lot, Snape always hated him."

"The feeling was mutual. Anyway, I've always wanted to fix up the shack as a memorial to Sirius and his friends. Remus would really appreciate it." He shrugged, before yawning wildly and stretching his arms above his head, pulling her arm up with him. She didn't object, as she was painfully reminded that Draco was shirtless. Her reluctance to look at him while he was half naked did not go unnoticed, and he took a tiny step towards her. Predictably, she shuffled backwards, looking determined away from him. Needless to say, he found it remarkably amusing. Draco took another step, as did she in he opposite direction.

"Mya, if you don't feel comfortable with me now, how are we going to spend our lives together, if a cure isn't found that is?" He drawled with only a hint of humor. She jerked her head up, surprised.

"I'm comforta- oof!" He'd backed her into the wall. She took a deep breath, doing her best to retain her dignity, even though she was in a fairly compromising situation. Thrusting out her chin, she said, "I am comfortable with you." Although his judgment screamed for him not to, his thirst for her grew as she blinked up at him.

"Is that so?" She nodded. "Would you still be comfortable if I do this?" His voice was slow and almost teasing, but sent shivers down her spine all the same as he took his free hand and rested it on her shoulder, his thumb sliding under her spaghetti strap. Then, knowing it would make her melt, he released the hand he was holding and placed his palm protectively on her hip. Predictably, she began to lean on the wall, sighing in comfort. "What if I do this?" he asked seductively as he slid his thumb just under the edge of her tank top, stroking her skin. Grinning with satisfaction, he stepped a little closer, so that his foot rested on the inside of hers. "Are you still comfortable?" She didn't answer, her eyes drifting closed. He gently slid his hand up the back of her shirt until it rested on her lower back above her bra. Then, ever so slowly to draw it out, he lowered his lips to her neck, nipping at her skin. "I won't hurt you," he whispered into her ear, the side of his head pressed against hers. "Just tell me when you aren't comfortable."

It had been a long time since he had messed around with Pansy, and even then that had been powered solely by lust, so now it was all he could do not to leap on Hermione now. Her staggered breathing reminded him that this was all painfully new for her, and that he must take it slowly, so as not to frighten her. For once it was strangely more satisfying to hear her enjoying herself than to be panting himself. That made it easier for him to settle with just sucking lovingly on her neck. Draco began to drift his kisses upwards as his hand strayed further down, his lips toughing her ear, then her cheek, then her jaw, before finally catching hers. She didn't fight him off, allowing him to take the lead. His hand stopped to rest on the waistband of her shorts, though he made no move to do anything further to them. The attraction pushed him closer to her, shoving her lightly against the wall. Draco had only one thought, _take it slowly_.

He reluctantly pulled his head away, leaving her breathless and shocked, eyes still closed. "Is this okay?" She nodded as he moved his hand palm down on her stomach, pressing it gently on her skin. Hermione shuddered. See, _this_ was fun. And yet serious. Draco had never done anything like _this_ before, deliberate, hesitant, and _meaningful_. He couldn't screw this up, he wouldn't. Though he wasn't sure what had actually happened between Hermione and Cedric Diggory, but he was sure that she was about as pure as fresh driven snow, and that she hadn't been touched or kissed like this for years, if ever.

She wasn't frozen now, he became aware, and she was timidly pressing her own hand against his bare chest, not to push him away but to steady herself. He grinned, sliding his tongue cleanly into her mouth. He'd had enough of self-loathing lately; he wouldn't restrict himself from having fun. Here he was, free from his father, free from the dark lord, on a Sunday morning, snogging the girl he loved. "Don't let others steal your happiness, Draco. We Malfoys do what we like, so never let anyone restrict you," his mother had told him once. He adored his mother, and had never done otherwise. Sure, the quote had a sinister undertone, but what else would you expect from the wife of Lucius Malfoy?

He snaked his hand further up the front of her shirt, making her breathing hitch. Knowing it was the gentlemanly thing to do, he mumbled against her lips, "Just tell me when to stop." She just pulled him back down to kiss him feverishly. Their eyes stayed closed, Draco's out of bliss, hers out of reluctance to meet those gray eyes, so painfully familiar. _Just forget about Cedric,_ she begged herself. _Move on, be with Draco!_ But at the same time there was Dumbledore's voice, "Remember Cedric. Remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory." She had to, if she didn't no one else would. To most he was a statistic or just another fallen hero, popular and smart and respectful. But no one would really remember who he was, how startling his gray eyes looked when they reflected moonlight, or how he had been five minutes late to the Champion's tent before the third task.

If she didn't, who else would? No one. She was forced to carry his memory, since she was the only one who _really_ knew him. She knew him better than Cho had; she had been his confidant, his best friend. They had never mentioned the tournament, except for that one time, that one night. Their friendship wasn't about the tournament; it was about trust and support. And now Draco was sliding into the role of her support, just like how Cedric had replaced Ron and Harry. Hermione didn't know what she was doing, her fingers were in his hair, his hand was rising up under her shirt. As it reached the fabric edge of her bra and skimmed the skin underneath, her eyes flew open to see his own gray pupils watching for her reaction.

"Stop," she whispered softly, her voice ragged as she remembered those gray eyes staring blankly upward. His face had been frozen in shock and confusion, his skin paper white and his eyelids not blinking.

"If anything happens to me in that maze, promise me you'll move on," he'd begged her, his face serious and stony. She'd smiled and took his larger hand in her own.

"Don't say that, nothing's going to happen to you," she'd assured him. He hadn't backed down. He never had.

"Really, Hermione. I mean it. On the teeniest, tiniest chance that I do die today, please go on without me. You shouldn't spend your life wasting away in that dusty library. You can't give up like you did on Christmas."

"You've gone pale, May, are you alright?" Draco asked, removing his hand to hold onto her wrist loosely. "I didn't scare you did I?" She shook her head, looking down. Seeing the sudden melancholy sweeping over her, he drew the right conclusion. "You had another Diggory flashback." It was a statement, not a question, so she provided no response.

Draco resisted the urge to yell, 'He's dead for Merlin's sake!' and instead sighed. There were two ways to distract Hermione Granger. Seeing as the first was kissing, he ruled that out. She would start crying. The second wasn't appealing on a Sunday morning, but he saw no other option.

"Alright Mya, lets just go to the library and find some construction spells for your little shack, eh?"

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**A/N: Poor Hermione, she really needs to get over Cedric, doesn't she? She will eventually. Ok, I haven't written past this point yet, except for a page or two, so excuse me if I don't have a good teaser. Well, it's actually kind of cool. **

"_I mean, the attraction probably won't disappear, but it would be worth falling in love with you just to laugh in Dumbledore's smug face."_

"_What do you mean it would be worth falling in love with me? Am I that hard to fall in love with?"_

**Yeah, so nothing that special; it's not another make out chapter. I haven't written much more than that, so just bare with me. Toodles!**

**Final Word Count: 2583**


	10. A Desperate Need For Answers

**A/N: Well, seeing as we all are upset with Hermione and her inability to move on over Cedric, I took it upon myself to speed up the process. Here is your reward for waiting oh so patiently for me to get back from Washington. I hope it's up to snuff. And I apologize that I didn't update on Friday, the website isn't letting me in. Whatever.**

**And I know this whole thing with Ginny is weird, but it will come into play later on. Just bare with me, I find it fun to write.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but I do own a Harry Potter calendar. That's enough for me.**

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**Chapter 10: A Desperate Need For Answers**

It was quite possible that young Ginny Weasley's head would explode some day in the near future. It was obvious that she didn't know something as she sat across from Draco and Hermione, who were looking way to comfortable around each other than socially acceptable for a Slytherin and a Gryffindor to be. Her jaw dropped when Draco reached across Hermione for a pitcher of water, his cheek only inches from her nose, without any protest from her. She just smiled vaguely at him before continuing to sort through her bag. Of course, Harry and his second in command didn't notice anything, and she didn't plan on telling them. It wasn't like they would have appreciated the close proximity the two had been in outside the library on Saturday.

Yes, Ginny had seen the two of them snogging like their lives depended on it over the weekend. She had just been walking by on her way to the kitchens when she had seen her best friend pushed up against the wall, looking very energetic indeed. Ginny had scampered away, pretending not to have seen anything. It was harder to pretend now, especially because the look in Draco's eyes when he looked at Hermione seemed very different from unadulterated loathing.

Eventually the class bell rang and she was forced to stop her spying, but she watched Draco and Hermione as they left the hall a few yards ahead of her. He held the door open for the brunette without a second glance, and followed her up the stairs. Something was going on, and Ginny wanted to find out what.

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

As our young hero and heroine soon learned, holding a wand and performing magic while being magnetically attracted to another human was no laughing matter. Of course, students and teachers alike found this remarkably funny, rolling their wands back to them whenever they skittered across the floor. When McGonagall handed Draco back his wand for the fourth time during transfiguration, Harry and Ron both burst out laughing at the annoyed expression on the blonde's face.

"What's so funny, Potter?" he snapped at them as Hermione perfectly turned her floor tile into a monarch butterfly. The two boys sitting behind them snickered mercilessly, Ron even going so far as to imitate Draco's attempt at working with his left hand, waving his arm around over his head. Lavender laughed at his poor imitation, while the blond only scowled. Harry smirked maliciously as he answered,

"I wasn't aware you did muggle disco, Malfoy." Hermione clucked her tongue disapprovingly before tugging on Draco's arm, forcing him to turn around and face forward in his seat. With a grimace he leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear,

"What on earth is the disco?" She grinned sympathetically before reaching for another kitchen tile.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He sighed and tried again, managing only to give the tile orange and black spots. The two boys behind them cackled. Seeing him stiffen, she gave his hand a small squeeze and whispered, "Don't let them get to you, be the better man." That was easier said than done.

Charms was even more miserable. They were still working on the Charge Switching spell, and although Flitwick allowed them to use the period as a study hall, and seeing as they had already mastered the spell, he proceeded to bother them with questions. Hermione had more patience with the bothersome teacher since charms was her favorite class, but Draco had little to none. He spent the hour and a half wondering how Hermione had failed to notice that Flitwick's questions were all rather pointed to whether they had learned of the cure.

"So how are you two coping with the attraction?" he asked as Draco tried to focus on his transfiguration essay. Hermione smiled warmly at their professor before answering,

"It's been rough but we've managed to figure out a pattern." _Yeah, making out regularly_, Draco thought to himself with a snicker. He sucked on the tip of his quill while watching Flitwick try and find the hidden meaning in her answer.

"Do you two have any long term plans on what you will do after graduation?" he asked next. Draco couldn't resist and answered before Hermione opened her mouth.

"I'm sure that the effect will have worn off by then, Professor," he drawled, suppressing a smirk. She turned to stare at him, wondering what on earth he meant. Did he _love_ her? Flitwick seemed flustered; as Draco mentally dared him to confess the horrid cure he didn't realize his students already knew.

"Well, just in case it doesn't, Mr. Malfoy, are you prepared to spend your life with Ms. Granger?" Hermione opened her mouth again but he kicked her lightly in the shin to shut her up. She scowled at him, but listened without comment as he took pleasure in confusing their teacher.

"I'm sure that it won't come to that, but if it does I'm sure we will figure things out. Granger and I are the best students of the year and we can find a way to make things work." His answer was netted with riddles and she frowned at its levels. Was he playing dumb to upset the teacher, or did he actually think they could some day fall in love? She pondered his smug look the rest of class, relieved when Flitwick left them to aid Pansy. "Cat got your tongue, Granger?" he asked her, smirking devilishly. She rolled her eyes.

"More like a snake."

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

Hermione wasn't a big fan of sneaking out. She had never approved of Harry and Ron's incessant habit of taking trips to Hogsmeade under the cover of night, and never thought she would be doing so herself. However, on Monday night she and Draco tiptoed through the castle to the entrance hall, without even the aid of the Marauder's map or an invisibility cloak. Thankfully he seemed to do this often, and they managed to avoid both Filch and his cat. He even made their trip to the Whomping Willow fun, cracking jokes about Flitwick's unveiled questions.

"I swear, he should have just said it outright!" he exclaimed as they walked down the steps toward the outstretch of grass where the tree was located. "How have you been coping with the attraction?" Draco imitated, his voice high-pitched. She snorted softly as she searched for a stick long enough to hit the knot. "Could you imagine the look on his face if the attraction just randomly disappeared during class? He'd faint clear over and knock over all of the stupid books he has to stand on!" Successfully finding a long branch, she laughed as she froze the tree.

"It would be amusing," she said quietly. He obediently followed her and crouched down to slide into the roots. They landed in a heap on the ground underneath it. He helped her up and looked anxiously around, not comfortable in a dark place he'd never been before. She lit her wand quickly and he did the same, before she tugged him along the tunnel. Draco kept talking in hopes of distracting himself from the unlit passage way.

"I mean, the attraction probably won't disappear, but it would be worth falling in love with you just to laugh in Dumbledore's smug face." Her face hardened but he couldn't tell in the dark. _'Worth falling in love with you?' What's that supposed to mean?_ Mr. Back-From-The-Dead thinks he's so great! Ha ha, beat that you old bat!"

"What do you mean when you say it would be worth falling in love with me?" Hermione asked bitterly, putting air quotes around worth and me. He faltered, not really expecting that question. He hadn't been watching what was spilling out of his mouth. "Am I that hard to fall in love with?" Draco bit his lip, wondering how to answer. He already was in love with her, and she hadn't noticed. How could she not have noticed? How could she not see how much he loved falling asleep with her cradled against him? She really did have some nerve, with her stupid Diggory obsession.

"Falling in love with you would be awful, because I would have to wake up every morning and remember I could never have you since you're still in love with Cedric Diggory," he hissed honestly, making her take a step backwards in surprise. _Point proven._

"That's not true," she whispered hopelessly, a little scared of the determination in his haunting eyes.

"Yes it is Mya, we both know it. You love Diggory and Diggory loved you and you're stuck in your little bubble." His words stung, because not only were they delivered out of anger and jealously, but the didn't ring true.

"I never said Cedric loved me," she said quietly, looking down at the dirt beneath her sneakers. This he hadn't expected, and his jaw dropped a couple inches. She laughed humorlessly. "Were you under the impression that he and I had been having some steamy love affair behind Cho's back?" He gulped unnoticeably, that was exactly what he had thought. "Well we weren't."

"Then what did happen, Mya?" he asked instead. She blushed and changed her grip on his hand, but he didn't back off like he knew she wanted him to. "Honestly, you're constantly drawing away from me because of this relationship you tell me you had, you wear what are supposedly his boxers to sleep at night, you admit that you loved him and now you're passing it off as nothing, saying he didn't care about you? Tell me what actually happened." He hadn't realized that while he'd talked he had backed her up against the back wall of the tunnel. It killed him to see her look up at him from underneath lidded eyes, an almost fearful tremor in her pupils, but he wasn't going to let this slide. In four days he'd fallen in love with Hermione Granger, and he wanted to know what it was that was keeping her from returning his emotions. She had to be blind to not see how much he cared for her, how he _looked_ at her, and he was the one and only Draco Malfoy! He made girls swoon with one smile, faint with one wink! He was _giving_ himself to her, why wasn't she _taking_ him?

"You want to know what happened?" she asked, her voice icy. He gave her a look that clearly said, 'duh!' "You really want to know?"

"Yes Hermione, I really want to know." Her lips turned to a thin line as she looked over every sharp curve of his face. She memorized every line on his skin, and each different color in his eyes, as if searching for something to see if he was honest.

"I kissed him. Once, before he went into the maze." She sighed and looked away, unseeing, at the dark behind him. "He was shocked at first, but then he smiled brilliantly, his hair all windswept, before leaning down and kissing me on the forehead. Then he bounded off into the Champion's tent and I never saw him up close again." As earnest as she sounded as she blinked back what looked like tears, something didn't add up. It was too innocent.

"But then how'd you end up with his underwear?" he asked outright. Hermione smiled slightly as she remembered yet again, before answering.

"The night before the third task I was terrified of losing them, both of them. I couldn't sleep or eat or distract myself. Harry was just as panicked and turned to Ron and Sirius, so I couldn't find peace with them." She looked down at her feet again, blushing slightly. "Cedric had given me something, this little pendent thing that I could use to contact him. I called him through it and he asked me to meet him on the seventh floor in front of the tapestry of Barnabus the Barnaby."

"The Room of Requirement," Draco muttered under his breath. She nodded, gulping nervously. It was odd to be telling somebody this when it had stayed within her so long. It felt relieving, like a weight was being lifted off her shoulders.

"Exactly," she continued, her voice a little stronger. "He could tell something was wrong, so he brought his backpack and a fresh change of clothes, but I hadn't been so prepared and just went in jeans and a t-shirt. We talked, that was all." Draco could see she wasn't finished, and didn't back up. "But eventually we had to go to sleep and I reluctantly told him that I had insomnia problems for the past week. He offered to stay with me in the room, and instantly this large double bed appeared." Her blush grew more profound as she fidgeted with the edge of her jacket, anxious about how Draco would react to what she would say next. He cringed. "Of course I hadn't brought anything with me to sleep in, so he offered me a pair of spare boxers he had brought with him and an undershirt." She wasn't aware of the relief spreading through him as he realized she hadn't lost her virginity to Cedric at all, like he had originally thought. "He held me until I fell asleep and when I woke up he was gone. He'd left a note saying to meet him in the Entrance Hall before the task, and you know what happened from there." Unable to contain his relief any longer, he grabbed Hermione's elbow, successfully returning her gaze onto him, and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Let's go back to your room, Mya. We can do the shack later, for now you need to sleep," he whispered into her ear as she began to cry silently onto his shoulder.

"So you're not mad at me?" she asked hoarsely, muffled against his shoulder. He kissed her neck softly before answering,

"Of course not. I'm just glad I know what happened."

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

"Cedric," she whispered urgently into the small circle. "Cedric, I need to talk to you." Hermione looked swiftly from side to side, checking for eavesdroppers. There were none. After a minute or two came his reply.

"Mya?" He sounded just as stressed and worried as she was.

"Yes it's me. I hope I didn't wake you up." Hermione checked once again that the curtains around her bed were shut and that Parvati and Lavender were both asleep.

"No no, I'm awake. What's wrong?"

"I'm just scared," she admitted, shivering slightly in a nonexistent breeze. "If you or Harry get hurt I wouldn't be able to deal with it." A small tired sigh could be heard from the pendent and she tucked her knees under her.

"Mya, we've been through this before, nothing is going to happen. There are adults who'll be patrolling around the maze to help me and Harry if anything goes wrong." She sniffled softly, but not soft enough to prevent him from hearing. "Are you crying?"

"I was earlier," she admitted with a blush he could hear in her voice. "But I'm not now."

"Oh Mya, you shouldn't get so worried, you have nothing to worry about!"

"Sorry, this is just really upsetting. And I can't sleep anyway."

"Neither can I. Why don't I meet you somewhere and we can both panic together, I know somewhere we can go if you'd like." Hermione opened her curtains a crack to grope for her wand.

"Okay."

"Meet me on the seventh floor outside the tapestry of Barnabus the Barnaby. We can spend the night in a room I know of if need be." She nodded feebly before remembering he couldn't see her.

"Thanks Cedric, I'll be there soon."

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

A/N: Was that good enough? Is everything clear? Next chapter Draco has to deal with the consequences of completely freaking out, and Hermione begins to put two and two together. And I do apologize for the slow update. This is getting really hard to write. Teaser?

He wasn't Cedric. Cedric was gone and not coming back. And Draco's eyes… his eyes were blue, not gray.

Haha, took her long enough. Laters! And please review, eventually I'll get to 350! Because guess what, I'm at 300! Another milestone for me! Toodles!

Final Word Count: 2843


	11. Act With Me

**A/N: I've only just started writing this chapter, so please excuse how rough this is. I had a huge problem thinking of what to do in it, so I decided to follow my motto, when stuck just write a make-out scene! And I promise that this does have plot value, it's not just that I hate Ron. But I suppose that may have helped. Heh heh. And I love Confused!Draco, he's so adorable.**

**And if you were wondering why Draco keeps calling Hermione "Granger" in the hallways, it's just because they want to keep up appearances. Don't ask, it has a purpose in the future. And you should know there's a lot of foreshadowing in this chapter if you look for it. Believe me, I plant a few seeds here.**

**Disclaimer: My name is Ella Riddle, I'm happily married to the innocent Tom Riddle and we have seven children, who have formed their own quidditch team called the Victorious Voldies. I'm also a healer and my husband has just been elected Minister of Magic. I have a strong suspicion that Harry Potter is my half brother, and that Ronald Weasley is secretly engaged to Hermione. But seriously, I don't own Harry Potter.**

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**Chapter 11: Act With Me**

Ginny watched the Marauder's map with a small smirk. Apparently Hermione and Malfoy were sneaking out. Judging by the close proximity against the wall, they were up to something, and it didn't seem very _academic_. Of course, Ginny Weasley didn't know that this was simply because Malfoy was reaming out Hermione about past relationships, rather than that the teenager was sliding his tongue artfully down the girl's throat. But what can be expected from a 16-year-old girl?

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

Tuesday continued on much like Monday had, with the exception of a much relieved and less stressed Draco, who could be seen once again smirking and winking at younger girls, as well as a very confused Hermione, who spent class staring at him with a pondered expression, then hurriedly looking away when his glance was returned. After seeing Draco's urgent stare the previous night, and having him curl his arms lovingly around her after she had told him what happened between him and Cedric, she was honestly lost. What on earth had led him to behave like that? There was only one thing that had ever made Ron or Harry look so frustrated and wishful: love. _Love?_ Why the _hell_ would _he_ be in _love_ with her? But if that weren't it, why would he be so anxious as to stop only before actually shaking her back and forth.

Draco smirked to himself as he finished his charms homework, looking right at home in the Muggle Studies classroom. Hermione took a break from her notes to just look him over. It wasn't like there was a way to _tell_ if he was in love with her or not. Did he seem like he was? She couldn't tell, though he looked happy, that was obvious. But for her, that wasn't the frightening question all of a sudden.

How did _she_ feel about Draco Malfoy? Not love, that she was certain. And he was no longer her enemy, but friend? They seemed beyond friendship for some reason. Friends-with-benefits? She hated that term to hell and back, but it did seem to fit. They kissed, well, more like made-out, three times so far. Did he want something more, like an actual relationship? Did _she?_

He was handsome; yes she knew that. That was as well as smart, and funny, and flirty, and talented. But there was also arrogant, and bitter, and a part of him that bullied her friends, and there were backgrounds to deal with. This wasn't some preteen romance movie. She wasn't the girl-next-door.

Horror of all horrors, he looked up and me her eyes while sucking casually on his quill tip. She blushed and tried to look down but she couldn't, because his eyes… his eyes were blue, not silver or gray. He wasn't Cedric. Cedric was gone and wasn't coming back. And suddenly, she understood.

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

The Slytherins absolutely hated that she sat with them, Pansy especially. Hermione tried to sit as close to Draco as she could without anybody noticing, in fear of the girl scowling at her with beady eyes. None of them really talked, although Hermione figured that was because she was there. Draco found this wickedly funny, and of course allowed her to grip his arm tightly as they, or he, ate lunch. This was his personal revenge against Pansy for all of her annoyingly slutty behavior. Deciding to put Hermione out of her misery, he nodded goodbye to Zambini, Crabbe, and Goyle before standing up and pulling her forcefully over the bench to keep up their 'enemy' persona. When they were out of the Great Hall he became gentler and relinquished his grip on her hand to drape his arm across her shoulder. She didn't protest, just wondered more about their impossible relationship.

"We've got fifteen minutes before Potions, anything you want to do, Granger?" he asked leisurely, still relieved that she hadn't slept with Cedric.

"I need a book from the library for my Muggle Studies essay." He sighed but nodded and let her steer him up the stairs. "And we should also start to plan the Yule Ball Dumbledore wanted us to do. He wants to make them a tradition or something to celebrate that Voldemort's gone." He rolled his eyes, causing her to scoff. "Malfoy, this is an honor, he's trusting us to plan a memorable event on our own!"

"I can think of many ways to make a ball special, none of which include fancy decorations or a famous band," he responded slyly, smirking at her disapproval.

"I know what you're insinuating, and it's not funny," she responded tartly, readjusting her shoulder strap, which he had jostled. "But we have a little over two months and I want to leave Hogwarts with a bang." He rolled his eyes but she didn't notice. "And speaking of music, I don't want to just book the Weird Sisters like we always do, we should do something different for once."

"Do we honestly need to discuss this now?" he whined again, just to make her mad. It worked, and she huffed impatiently before shrugging his arm off her shoulder and taking her hand. Choosing to continue as if he hadn't spoken, she said,

"Maybe we could get a student DJ, or an open mike night or something. You know, to keep students involved." Draco had an urge to mimic her voice and repeat her words back to her, but chose not to when he saw how excited she looked. A small grin had worked its way across her pale lips as she thought of all the plans that would have to be made. Without realizing it, he began to smile too. "I suppose Luna would be a good DJ, she was hilarious when she was a quidditch commentator last year." Draco wasn't a romantic, and never was one to believe that the person he loved was his soul reason to live, but he couldn't help but feel better when Hermione was happy. After all, when she was happy there was a better chance Diggory was far from her mind. "Oh that would be so much fun, maybe I could go up and sing something even. That would surprise everyone." What would surprise everyone would be if she let him kiss her in public and scare the crap out of Weasley.

"If you'll get up the guts to sing, I'll back you up on the DJ idea," he told her, pushing open the door to the library. She smiled gratefully up at him, before dragging him past the rows of bookshelves, looking down each one without stopping her pace. "I'm sure Dumbledore would love the idea, he'd probably go up and sing the hokey pokey." She giggled slightly, before pulling him around a corner.

"I can only imagine what Professor McGonagall would say about that," she added. He watched her head bounce up and down in front of him, almost glistening in the light spilling from the windows. _My god,_ he realized, _I'm obsessed with her!_

"Or Snape if he were still around. He'd get that weird scowl he had when he didn't understand something." She laughed, remembering her late professor's look well.

"Almost there," she commented as she checked the numbers of the isles. "Here we go." She turned another corner but stopped abruptly, causing him to walk into her.

"What is it?" he asked as he moved to stand beside her. He followed her gaze to a couple looking very… busy against a bookshelf. With a sneer he identified them as Weasley and his two-knut slut. But with a gasp he realized that it wasn't Weasley's girlfriend the redhead was tonguing, it was the other one, Patil. He knew Hermione had come to the same conclusion as her lips turned to thin lines. Wondering whether to simply back away slowly or to take pleasure in interrupting them, he stood there in awe. However, Hermione was already thinking. She turned around slowly, trying not to notify the couple of their presence, to face him. With a smirk that indicated she was scheming, she whispered,

"Act with me." He raised an eyebrow in confusion, but nodded hesitantly, considering what she meant. Hermione smiled devilishly, before sliding her hands up his chest to the folded collar of his robes, entwining her hands into the material. With a wink reserved to revenge, she tightened her hold and whirled him around and threw his back against a bookcase, before pushing her chest against him and meeting his lips in a demanding kiss. Completely stunned, Draco responded on autopilot, forgetting about Weasley and his mistress as Hermione's tongue fearlessly entered his mouth. His hands moved automatically to her back, pulling her closer. He wasn't acting.

Time seemed to slow down as Hermione closed her eyes and ran her hands downward to where his shirt was tucked neatly into his pants. She yanked it up, trying to seem lust driven and horny to really freak out Ron. When it was free she slid her hands up his chest under his shirt, marveling at the feel of the flat out muscle under her fingertips. Noticing her forward approach, Draco took a leap and cupped her butt in his hands, lifting her up. She didn't protest and wrapped her legs around his waist.

_Care for a little sweet revenge, Hermione?_ He had asked her, but she had turned him down. Well, here was her answer. Ron had used her for homework help, fallen on her as a backup date, and had blatantly ditched her when they'd had plans. At least Harry had apologized if he met up with Ginny but not Ron. No, he was above that. So now he could squirm, endure confusion. She had a new support and didn't need him. Draco was better than Ron, especially in terms of protection. Hermione smirked against Draco's lips, biting down lightly on his lower lip. He growled possessively, moving his mouth to suck overzealously on her neck. She groaned, digging her nails into his skin in a mix of exaggeration and ecstasy. Damn, he knew what he was doing.

Part of Draco's mind was wondering why Hermione was letting him go farther with her now than she had when they were in the privacy of their own rooms. The other part just didn't really care as he slid one of his hands under the back of her shirt. She giggled, her breathing fast. With a smirk to match hers, he realized she wasn't acting either, and that she was enjoying this as much as he was. He actually forgot that Weasley was watching them openmouthed a few feet away. As always, Ron took the liberty of reminding him.

"Get OFF her, Malfoy!" Hermione grinned as she and Draco innocently turned their heads to stare at the furious Redhead, whose make-out buddy was also complete shocked. Hermione made no move to get off Draco, and they pretended that they were just noticing the couple.

"Oh hello Ron, Parvati," she said calmly as Draco stroked his index finger in a circle over her skin. "Do you mind? We're kind of busy." As previously predicted, Ron's face began to grow purple. He fisted his hands and his eyes twitched comically. Draco stifled a snort and reminded himself to compliment Hermione on her genius question.

"Yes I bloody mind! What on _earth_ are you _doing_?" he bellowed, stepping forward. She took this as an indication to dismount **(A/N: I can't help but snicker. Excuse me. Heh Heh.) **Draco and take his hand, while smoothing her skirt. He buttoned his lower shirt one handed.

"I would think that's an obvious question, Ron. Less obvious and stupid would be the question, why are you in an isolated portion of the library with a girl who is not your girlfriend?" His face paled to an ironic shade of light lavender, and Parvati had the decency to look ashamed. Ron stuttered.

"Why don't you 'um…' over that for a while. Now if you'll excuse us," she winked. Draco took over.

"And Weasley, here's some advice," he drawled, drawing their attention. "If you're ever dumb enough to cheat on your girlfriend, make sure it's not in a public place where _anyone_ could find out and _tell_ said girlfriend." All four of them understood what he was implying. _You don't tell, and I won't either._ "And have the decency to at least snog someone slightly hot." Parvati's jaw dropped as Draco turned on his leather loafer clad heel and led a snickering Hermione away.

When they were safely out of the library, she pulled him into an alcove, beaming with a job well done.

"My god, that was absolutely brilliant," she said, squeezing his hand.

"We have to mess with his head and act really gooey around him to torture him," he added devilishly, for once looking forward to breakfast with the Gryffindors.

"Let's be late for Potions to make his imagination go haywire," she whispered quietly, moving her hand up to his neck. He leaned forward to kiss her softly on the lips. She responded eagerly, turning to lean against the wall.

Let's just say a very upset Ron watched the door of the Potions classroom like a hawk, and frowned deeply when a disheveled Hermione and Draco entered in ten minutes.

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

"_You should probably sneak back to your dorm now, Mya," Cedric said as he stretched out on the couch across from her, his voice content. Hermione sighed as she sat up, glancing at her watch._

"_There's no point, it's not as if I'll be able to sleep."_

"_I can't really reassure you without being a hypocrite," he responded. "Why don't we just spend the night here?" She shifted nervously, but nodded, knowing her was right._

"_I don't have any pajamas," she protested tiredly as he stood up. She watched as he picked up his backpack off the floor. _

"_I'm sure I've got something you can wear." She nodded, and accepted the clothing he handed her without comment. It wasn't until later, when she lay next to him with his arms wrapped comfortingly around her, and the thunder and lightening outside started that she realized what this meant._

_She was in love with Cedric Diggory._

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**A/N: I apologize that this chapter was absolute crap; it really is the product of writer's block and Red Bull. It gets more interesting from now on, as we now see that neither Draco nor Hermione are acting anymore. But from now on I'm officially mucking around with my plot. You know how it is when you know where you are and where you want to end, but you can't get there? That's me. Sorry. **

**Anyway, if you get mad at me for taking to long and not being up to par, read my two other fan fics, My Past His Present Your Future, which is a 'I made a mistake and resurrected my mother' story, and Where White Meets Black, which is a 'I'm a pureblood so you can't yell at me now' story. Neither are clichéd, so just give them a try. Please read and review, I want to get to 500 reviews before this ends. Then again, I'm hardly half way through with this story, so I may get to 1000 if I'm lucky. Please?**

**Sorry, no teaser. But I think we're getting closer to when Hermione crosses the line between love and hate, hint hint. Heh Heh. Oh come on, you know you love me. Toodles!**

**Final Word Count: 2798**


	12. Tormented Contentment

**A/N: Tomorrow's my birthday! Go me! How about giving me a birthday present? I'll accept fanart! Please? A sketch, a poster, a banner, an icon, anything? Well, consider it.**

**Anyway, I apologize for how short this chapter is, it is a filler. Believe me, the next chapter will be awesome if I get around to writing it. Next chapter is the chapter, and I'll make it long. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own it on any planet. You can ask someone, and the answer will always be the same.**

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**Chapter 12: Tormented Contentment**

Ginny watched as her brother's face morphed into disgust and fury during breakfast as he sliced his eggs brutally. She really could have laughed. Apparently, she was no longer the only one to know of Draco and Hermione's relationship, and it was only a matter of time before Harry would find out as well. Especially if he were to look up from his DADA textbook and see that Draco's hand was lingering suspiciously on Hermione's thigh. Ginny rolled her eyes; her boyfriend was so oblivious.

Hermione was thinking the same thing as she deliberately crossed her legs to get her skirt to rise up under Draco's slender fingers. She suppressed a snicker as Ron glared at his plate. His clueless girlfriend Lavender was trying to talk to her about something pointless, and Hermione nodded politely with no idea what she was agreeing to. Her mind was on Draco and how he had an absolutely perfect poker face. That was part of the reason that only Ron had noticed where the blonde's hand was so boldly located.

Her eyes flickered to Ginny, who was smirking. There was a chance that she knew as well; she had experience in these matters. Ginny winked at her. Hermione winked back.

Draco was supposedly reviewing his charms essay in his lap, but he was really just staring blankly at it, grinning inside. Take that Weasley! She's mine now, all mine! He chanted to himself, moving his hand slightly to curl his fingers on the edge of her skirt, knowing Weasley was watching. He inched his hand up her skirt to press his palm on her inner thigh. She squirmed.

"Don't push it too far," she scolded in his ear, her face lurking by his several seconds longer than necessary. He didn't look up, only pinched her skin between his thumb and forefinger. She hissed at him. Ron dropped his fork on his plate and stormed out, furious. When he was safely out of the room, the two of them and Ginny burst out into laughter. Harry looked up from his textbook, still oblivious.

"What's so funny?" he asked his girlfriend, who shook her head. Draco calmed down fairly quickly and returned to his essay, but didn't remove his hand from Hermione's leg.

"Oh my god, did you see his _face_?" Hermione stammered, cackling maliciously. She earned a glare from Parvati and a shrug from Lavender, who was just as unbothered as Harry. Her breathing hitched as Draco's hand grazed the edge of her underwear. "Stop it, he's gone now," she whispered anxiously in his ear. Without comment he did as he was told and took her hand.

"Good morning Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger," greeted someone behind them. They turned on the bench to see Professor Dumbledore smiling sadly at them. Draco scowled, where as Hermione said happily,

"Good morning professor!"

"Mr. Malfoy, I just wanted to remind you that your mother's funeral is this Saturday." The smile on her face disappeared as Draco's face hardened. "You and Ms. Granger should come to my office that morning and you can take the floo network." Since Draco seemed to have frozen, Hermione answered for him, nodding her head. Dumbledore swept away, his light yellow robes sticking out like a beacon amid the black school uniforms.

"Let's go to class, Malfoy," she mumbled awkwardly, at a loss of what to do. He blinked and nodded, sliding his things back into his bag. Ginny watched as they left side by side, Hermione moving her hand to his lower back, pushing him forward. They were good together, she concluded. And god help Ron if he tried to break them up.

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

"The Hate potion was first created in 1324 by Colére Joclousie when he tried to create Amortentia but confused his ingredients. He added Motley Snow snake eggs instead of what?" Hermione asked Draco from behind her potions textbook. Upon receiving no answer, she looked over the top of the spine to see him staring off into space, absentmindedly twirling a strand of his silky hair around his index finger. "Draco?"

"Huh?" he responded. With a sigh she realized his eyes were empty. He was grieving again.

"Never mind," she said softly, looking back down at her book. "Ashwinder eggs," she mumbled to herself. Hermione caught him like this occasionally, lost in his thoughts. His face would be blank, giving no sign as to what he was thinking, but it wasn't hard to guess. No, it was better to leave him alone and let him accept what was happening to him. It would be better for him to mourn in private, rather than in front of the press at Narcissa Malfoy's funeral.

Hermione cringed. She would have to go of course. The thought wasn't pleasant, her a muggleborn, an attendant of a fancy pureblood burial? Rita Skeeter would have a field day and the Slytherin families would be disgusted. Sadly, she had to go. Draco would be there to say good-bye to his mother and save face for the public, and she would stand by his side and hold his hand.

Narcissa Malfoy couldn't have been _all_ bad. She was not a Death Eater like her sister Bellatrix, for when she had been taken in for questioning she had not borne the mark. Andromeda Black had turned out all right, perhaps Narcissa would have been like that had she not married Lucius? Surely she had been a good, loving mother, since once you got to know him her son was a sensitive and caring friend?

"Tell me about her," Hermione asked as she closed her textbook, her voice gentle. Draco knew who she was talking about but didn't say anything at first. Ten minutes later, after Hermione had returned to her text, he said,

"She was kind." He let his words hang in the air as Hermione looked up and studied his face. To the untrained eye, he was unreadable, but she could see the insecurity that he carried his jaw with, and his frequent nervous glances to the floor. "And intelligent. I never had a tutor as a child, my mother taught me all she knew." He settled back in his chair, careful not to lose contact with her foot under the table. His eyes sparkled as he was caught up in a memory. "And so full of surprises."

"Like what?"

He began to smile as he responded, "Like I entered her study once during the summer to find her playing an acoustic Muggle guitar. Really well, might I add." He laughed humorlessly as he added, "I don't think my father knew either, they had a loveless marriage anyway." She nodded sympathetically. "She taught me how to play too."

"Really?" she asked, a little shocked. Draco Malfoy, closet guitar player? "When?"

"Over the summer, when she was in the hospital. She said it soothed her and that if I… If I wanted to survive the war I'd have to stay calm and ground myself somehow." He looked down at his hands, fidgeting in his chair. Hermione reached out over the desk to clasp his hand. He looked up at her, his eyes showing his appreciation. "She was right, I guess. But I haven't played since she went into her coma." Narcissa had been ill for a long time before the final battle and had spent most of the end of Draco's sixth year at St. Mungo's.

"You should play, Draco, it would make her happy to know you're okay," she advised softly, but he scowled and shook his head, sweeping his hair across his stormy eyes.

"No, it wouldn't be right. I couldn't do that." Knowing it would be pointless to push the subject, she looked back down at the open tome before her.

_She's right you know_, his conscience drawled. _Cissy always said that to trust someone you have to share everything with her_.

_I'm not ready, and she could still tell Potter and Weasley,_ he protested, looking at the girl still holding his hand.

_Why would she tell them? She didn't tell them about Diggory, she told you_, it added smugly. _She's one of the only people who you could trust with your life, you could share this with her._ He shrugged this off, watching Hermione's eyes dart across her page.

_When she falls in love with me I'll play for her,_ he decided, fascinated suddenly by the stubborn strand of slightly curly hair that always came loose from her bun. He reached out and tucked it behind her ear, letting his fingers linger by her cheek. She looked up, surprised, but smiled back at him, before taking his hand again. She gave it a small squeeze before returning to her book_. And she will fall in love with me, one of these days_.

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Hermione Granger was a bookworm. She read a lot: before she went to sleep, when she woke up, as she ate. Now it's safe to assume that because of her frequent reading that she got a lot of paper cuts. Of course since she had lived through the final battle she had a high threshold for pain and little paper cuts didn't bother her much. But, since she had not been in any major pain for several months, getting a paper cut while lying in bed next to the protective Draco Malfoy, completely safe, would come as a shock.

"Damn," she swore under her breath as she turned over her index finger to see that a shiny, swelling droplet of blood was emerging from her cut. Tears welling in her eyes, she sat up and immediately put the smarting finger in her mouth to suck on it. She closed her eyes and kicked the offending book off the bed, forgetting that her leg crossing over Draco's was the only thing keeping the attraction at bay. However, she only fell backwards onto the dozing Draco's chest, her head lightly hitting his chin. He blinked through her bushy hair and moved his hand to her shoulder to push her up. Hermione whimpered.

"What is it?" he mumbled, until he saw her finger in her mouth and the book lying on its pages on the floor. Laughing slightly at her pitiful ailment, he said, "Hermione, it's just a paper cut. Come on and lie back down." She opened an eye to glare at him, her eyelid twitching.

"It hurts," she whined around her finger. Draco rolled his eyes and wrapped his hand around her wrist to pull it away. She let him, but clenched her jaw, scowling at the small cut.

"Look, see? It's already started to heal itself," he cooed, pointing to the little clots beginning to form. He moved her hand into his open palm, gently curving his fingers around it. She looked down at their entwined hands wide-eyed, both from the subtle pain and from his careful loving caress. "Want me to heal it for you?"

"No, I'll get a Band Aid," she said quietly, reaching for her wand on her bedside table, as he wondered what a Band Aid was. She accioed one from her bathroom while he rubbed his eyes with his free fist. As she wrapped the plastic bandage around her finger he lay back down on his back, and she too put her things on her table before blowing out her candle. She rested her head against his chest and sighed contentedly as his arms wound around her waist.

She didn't dream of Cedric that night, only of a tall blond who usually held a silver and red guitar and a microphone for some obscure reason. Draco smiled peacefully as he lay awake, listening to her mumble something random. However, his smirk slipped away when she mumbled something along the lines of,

"I hate you."

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**A/N: Creepy? Too normal? Don't worry, this is the calm before the storm. Next chapter is the chapter, I promise. Really. I haven't written much of it, but I can still give you this tiny teaser.**

_She gasped as all heads turned in their direction, and stared dumbfounded at Draco. He was looking down at their hands as the purple glow faded, his own eyes wide in shock._

**I told you so. Laters!**

**Yay, happy birthday to me.**

**Final Word Count: 2152 (I'm sorry, I'll make the next one really really long.)**


	13. Shock and Unsettled Feelings

**A/N: Here it is, _the_ chapter. Heh, heh. So anyway, I hope that you all enjoy it. And I know that I loved writing it. But be aware that the first half is kind of, you know, out there. It's kind of bizarre. And I know that I promised you a long chapter and I left you on a cliffhanger, but that's intentional. Ha. And thank you for all the reviews, I know I'll hit 550 after this chapter, but I could possibly get to 600 this chapter or next chapter. **

**Oh, before I forget, I got to 500!**

**And I've started another fan fic. I know, now I'm writing four, but I got tired of waiting to publish that really long one shot about Hermione and Voldemort, so I just did it already in small chapters. Go check it out; it's really cool.**

**Oh, and I don't normally respond to reviews, but seeing as I got one that was anonymous, I have to respond here. **

**Kate: Sorry that I've been taking so long, but contrary to popular belief I am still in school and I have a lot going on. Though, I did speed things up for you! Eh, well anyway, three weeks until schools over then I'll be faster. **

**Oh, and thank you thank you thank you to my beta cckeimig who got this back to me really quickly so I could update! -Bows down- **

**So, shall I just start?**

**Disclaimer: Do you think that I could possibly own Harry Potter? Do you? Because if you do, I will seriously point and laugh. POINT AND LAUGH I SAY!**

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**Chapter 13: Shock and Unsettled Feelings**

Friday dawned windy and rainy as the last traces of fall faded into brisk winter with November right around the corner. Chill nipped at Hermione's feet as she slipped out from under the warm comforter on Draco's bed, only to remember she couldn't let go of his hand. Admitting defeat, she crawled back in, reluctant to greet the day at all. After poking him incessantly in the shoulder for what seemed like an hour, which was really only about four minutes, he squinted up at her, his gray eyes running with threads of red. They both stumbled around in a stupor, with one eye open, and both were so out of it that they switched ties by accident, and only realized it halfway through breakfast when they noticed Dean Thomas' snickers were directed at them. She blushed as she undid their knots, as Draco was still fairly blind, and silenced the seventh year Gryffindors with a steely glare.

By first period Potions they had both woken up, although they were lulled by the fumes of the elixir they were creating. Hermione leant her head on Draco's shoulder and no one noticed as he wrapped his arm around her waist, running his fingers against the skin peeking out from between the top of her skirt and the bottom of her shirt. She didn't mind; the soft rubbing of his fingers against her skin felt nice, almost comforting. Add to that the warm aroma around them and Slughorn's droning voice made her want to take a nap, right on Draco's shoulder.

_It was the tower again, with snow spiraling around her and the harsh winter cold biting at the skin that the ribbons of her black dress didn't cover. She looked down at the lawn, jaded and desperate for some outlet. 'I hate you,' nipped at her brain, his voice haunting her. 'I don't love you anymore.' She hummed along without realizing it, the words seeming to echo across the silent grounds even though the song was long over. 'It never was and never will be.' She wasn't crying like before, she wasn't lonely and hopeless. She was simply heartbroken, nothing new. Her satin-clad feet poked out over the railing, scuffing softly on the stone. The night seemed poetic in its simplicity, so unlike the rush of three years previous. She didn't know whether to be upset or relieved that there would be no daredevil on a broomstick to swoop under and catch her. His cold eyes seemed to glare up at her from the snow. She smiled back._

_It would be so easy to just fall, but what problems had that brought her in the past? It had given her Cedric, and then caused her to open up to Draco. What a bad idea that had been. She ran a hand up her arm, knowing this was a terrible idea. This was cowardly, this finally caving in, giving up again. Wasn't there always something to look forward to? What had happened to that theory?_

_And yet, the image of him sneering down at her, his face pained, 'You don't know how you betrayed me.' He was being cold for no reason; the boy who she was sure had loved her. She picked up her foot and let it dangle over the edge_.

The class bell rang, shocking her out of her slumber. Draco looked down at her curiously, his eyes twinkling. _Not cold or hard_.

"Problem, Granger?" he drawled, though his eyes showed his true concern. Hermione shivered; almost shocked that she was warm instead of freezing.

"No, Malfoy, I'm fine." She walked in a daze to Charms, knocking her shoulder into people occasionally. Draco led her through the hall, glancing back at her as if to see if she was still there.

That hadn't been a flashback dream; it had been new. It had been so real, so detailed. She had been back on the tower again, but why? And that feeling of her heart snapping in two, what did that mean? Then she remembered the Evanescence music, what had that been about? Frustrated now, Draco doubled back and took her arm, before pulling her into a glass alcove overlooking the lake. She couldn't hide a tremble as she looked at him, and he noticed straight off the bat.

"Mya, what happened? And don't say nothing, because you're acting really odd," he insisted, pushing his hands against her shoulders so that she leant against the wall. Hermione looked away, hiding behind a wave of her hair. He waited, not flicking back her hair for once. Finally she whispered,

"I… had a dream just now." Immediately his face hardened and he scowled bitterly, his grip on her shoulders tightening. She winced, blinking fearfully up at him. "Stop it, Draco, you're hurting me." He dropped his arms and grabbed her wrists, regretting his rash actions. He turned around, unable to look at her without feeling guilty. Draco leant his forehead against the glass, breathing steam across it.

"It wasn't about Cedric if that's what you're thinking." He softened, obviously relieved, and turned to face her.

"Well, then, what was it?"

"I don't know…" she answered, thinking of the cold and her black dress. "It's just… something bad's coming." Hermione scowled at her similarity to Professor Trelawney. Rephrasing, she added, "I just have this unsettled feeling." Draco let his concern for the frightened girl next to him override his own worry that had erupted the previous night because of Hermione's midnight ramblings. Knowing no one in the hallway would notice, he turned back and gave her a gentle hug, letting her head rest on his shoulder.

"There's nothing left to come, Hermione. You-Know-Who's gone and I'm here to protect you," he whispered in her ear, rocking her back and forth. "I won't let anything hurt you."

She softened, burrowing her face into his robes. Hermione let the scent of him envelop her, calming her just as it had the previous Friday.

"Now we have to get to Charms, but afterwards we can skive off your Muggle Studies and talk about your dream, okay?" he soothed, running a hand through her hair. She nodded against his shirt. "Give me your hand." He stepped backwards and slid her hand into his, before readjusting her shoulder strap and pulling her back into the throng of students that was rushing through the hallway.

She followed him obediently without complaint, watching the back of his head as it navigated the halls in front of her. He really cared about her, it seemed; more so than Harry and Ron, who she had to say did use her for homework help more often than enough for it to be suspicious. If she had told Ron he would have laughed, and Harry would have only assured her that she had nothing to worry about, and that she was being silly. Draco was the one person who actually could calm her; it was the same classic pattern. Next she would fall in love with him and he would die the next day.

That wasn't funny.

She wouldn't fall in love with Draco, though. He wasn't her type.

_Then what is your type?_ Her conscience asked. _He's smart, funny, gentle, athletic and yet not Quidditch-obsessed, understanding, and he feels really strongly for you!_ Hermione shrugged it off, smiling half-heartedly as Draco opened the door to the Charms classroom. _Not to mention an amazing kisser and extremely attractive._ Alright, she admitted he was hot, but that was nothing to base a relationship on! He was a player, for Merlin's sake! _And yet for a full week he's only kissed you._ Yeah, because she was his only option.

_Well, what about that fuzzy feeling you've been getting recently in your stomach every time he touches you, which is, I might add, all the bloody time!_ She squirmed, her stomach flipping as Draco's knee brushed hers when they sat down. _He is sooo your type, you need to stop this denial._ Hey, she could be coming down with the flu or something! _Right, you just keep telling yourself that._

Hermione looked up at Draco again, watching as his face regained his trademark sneer as he realized his inkpot had spilled in his bag. That relationship would be doomed from the start if they ever did fall in love, because the only reason they could keep up their strange relationship now was that they were together every single second of the day. If the attraction disappeared, they would have to sneak around behind Harry and Ron, as well as deal with the rumors and random problems that came with a Slytherin and a Gryffindor being together. It wouldn't stand a chance.

Plus, he was a racist bigot! Sure he overlooked the fact that she was a Muggleborn but it stopped with her, and he was still the conceited prat he had been before the attraction. What if they got married? Their family would be a wreck! He was a 'dark' pureblood, with fancy traditions and stuff that she could never become a part of. And what about the house elves? SHE MUST THINK OF THE HOUSE ELVES!

Draco's sneer became more pronounced as the spilt ink began to drip onto his shoes. He growled at them before digging out his wand and making a big production out of cleaning the miniscule mess. Hermione rolled her eyes, _bloody drama king_. Honestly, it was all about his hair, his clothes, and his reputation. He was an egomaniac.

But she still felt warm and protected next to him. She felt like Cedric had never existed, and that Ron and Harry still made time for her, and that she was actually appreciated. All the positives about him, his trust, his wit, his depth, his unpredictability, his fascination for the little details, his suddenly completely adorable smirk, outweighed everything else. So what if her parents and Harry and the Weasleys and McGonagall and the entire Gryffindor seventh year surrounding them wouldn't approve? They faded away in her mind's eye, leaving only the two of them. She couldn't focus on the Charge Switching spell; she didn't think about grades, she didn't want to lose him. Because if she lost him she wouldn't be able to go on. And suddenly it became clear that her life would never be the same.

For she was in love with Draco bloody Malfoy.

She blinked at the realization, but didn't have much time to think before the consequences of her actions kicked in. Both she and Draco looked up as their joined hands began to tingle. His brow furrowed in confusion as a purple glow grew from between their fingers, eventually getting brighter, attracting the attention of several of the students in desks around them. Hermione gulped. The attraction, it was _ending!_ That could only mean that he loved her, too! Not a crush, not just a physical want, actual love! He looked up at her, as he understood what was happening, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. He was too stunned to say anything. She gasped in embarrassment as all remaining heads turned in their direction, and could only stare dumbfounded at Draco. He looked back down as the glow faded. Flitwick turned around when he noticed that quills were no longer scratching across pages, in time to see the last flicker of purple light die. He promptly fainted.

Draco twitched at the soft thud of their professor hitting the floor, and she waited for his reaction. But there wasn't one, only shock. Then, tentatively, he let go of her hand, it fell to the desk. They braced themselves for the pull, but there wasn't one. He gulped, easing himself out of his chair to stand beside the desk. She looked up at him fearfully, unsure of what he was doing. With an uneasy smirk, he quickly swept all of his things into his bag, before giving her a polite nod, and bolting out the door. She suddenly felt so alone without him gently stroking her fingers without realizing it. A small tear crept unnoticed from the corner of her eye, while she registered what he had done.

He had left her, like so many before. Not even bothering to fetch her things, she stood up and silently followed him out of the door. The hallway was empty. So she did the only thing possible. She went back to her bedroom and tried to absorb herself into a book, to wait for him to come back.

The room felt empty without him in it.

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**A/N: Dum dum dum dum… DUM! Things aren't over yet! Don't worry; Draco's far from gone. He's just… doing some thinking. And Harry, Ron, and Ginny come back full swing in the next few chapters, as well as a SONG FICTION explosion! WOOOO!**

**Things you should keep in mind from now on:**

**1. Hermione's dream. Very important, since it gives hints as to what comes. And also, her Cedric dreams continue. Told you so, Erica.**

**2. Draco's habit of calling Hermione 'Granger' in public and 'Mya' in private. What he calls her in the next few chapters will show you how he's feeling.**

**3. Narcissa Malfoy's funeral. It's tomorrow. And he still has to go, whether Hermione's with him or not.**

**4. Ron's competitiveness. I know I haven't shown much of it in this fic, but next chapter it becomes important. As well as his protectiveness when Hermione is around.**

**5. The Yule Ball and the DJ idea. –cough, cough. Points finger at Hermione and Draco- **

**6. Draco's guitar. It comes into play… eventually. **

**7. Draco's trust issues. It gets annoying. **

**Teaser?**

"_What, scared I'll be a better kisser than your little Malferret?" _

**-Cough, number 4, cough- Must go, need to sleep. Later! **

**Final Word Count: 2581**


	14. A New Malfoy Resolve

**A/N: Relax you ingrates, Draco didn't leave her! He just needed to think on his own for a bit. He's coming back! Read on, my friends, and DO NOT FREAK OUT at the end of this chapter. It does get better and it gets really interesting. Take me seriously when I say that this story is only half over. Meaning more fights, ferret bouncing, and SONG FICTION! Wooo! Read on.**

**And check out my new divider. I needed a change.**

**Disclaimer: What would you say if I told you that I actually _did_ own Harry Potter? Would you _actually_ believe me?**

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**Chapter 14: A New Malfoy Resolve**

There were no words to describe how confused Draco Malfoy was as he sat in the Quidditch stands after fleeing the Charms classroom. He lay back across the bench, staring up at the sky as if the rain clouds above him spelled out the answers he needed. He didn't care that he was getting soaked, he hardly noticed as the drops were absorbed into his uniform, for he was too lost in his problems. What problems did he have, you ask? Do not doubt that Draco Malfoy had serious problems.

You see, the young Malfoy had issues with trust. Cursed by Malfoy breeding, he was haunted by intense paranoia, and hated more than anything to be vulnerable. And though he refused to admit it, he was at the moment very vulnerable. He had just publicly admitted that he was in love with a Muggleborn. And not just a Muggleborn, but a Gryffindor Muggleborn. Plus, not only a Gryffindor Muggleborn, but the best friend of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Had-Gotten-Lucky (BWHGL). That was three strikes against her, and three reasons why what he felt would be looked down upon.

Of course, the attraction disappearing also meant she loved him, but that was a very thin silver lining. If anyone got curious as to why the attraction had faded, they could easily look it up and see that he, Draco Malfoy, was in love with Hermione Granger.

Merlin, she loved him! He wanted to jump up and down! He wanted to scream it across Hogwarts grounds! He felt like proposing to her or doing something equally rash. But he wouldn't, because there were so many other things to worry about. He was a Malfoy; he was under constant examination. The Daily Prophet would have a field day, meaning she would be in considerable danger. Making out occasionally was so much different from a public, loving relationship. Not to mention she was a famous war hero, the best friend of the BWHGL. Plus Potter and Weasley were just so damned protective. He was going to die. Oh Merlin, they were going to kill him. He snorted softly, but coughed and sat up as rain went up his nose. But he sobered up instantly.

His hand felt empty without hers.

It wasn't as if he didn't have enough on his plate at the moment, he had to prepare for his mother's funeral. Draco wasn't sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing that Hermione wouldn't be coming with him. Or maybe she would come, who knew? Brooding would get him nowhere; he had to go speak to her.

And get into dry clothes.

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Hermione glared at her bookcase. Nothing could distract her without somehow reminding her of him. Not Muggle teenage romance, not Shakespeare, not her textbooks, not anything. Frustrated that her extensive library had failed her, she pulled her magically-altered iPod off her bedside table and sorted through her play-lists. After rounds of complicated spells she had managed to eliminate the need for electricity from the gadget, and now it was fueled by her own raw magical energy. Hermione skipped over Coldplay, shivering at the memory of being out on the lake. No, she wouldn't linger on _him_ until he came to talk to her.

Ah ha, Evanescence would do nicely. She slipped on her headphones and cranked up "Bring Me to Life." It was perfect, loud, morbid, and distracting, nothing like Draco. Well, he could be thought of as loud and morbid but- _no!_ No Draco!

_How can you see into my eyes, like open doors?_

She settled back on her bed, propped up by pillows. Um… think about something else. Quidditch, boring goal hoops, Luna's strange commentary, guys on broomsticks. Draco on a broomstick, his hair whipped back from his face as his muscular arms steer the- damn it.

_Leading you down into my core, where I've become so numb._

Oh, the Yule Ball. Decorations, fake snow, fog charms, a DJ, dancing. Dancing with Draco as his arms wrap around her waist, her head leaning against his firm chest while he- crud.

_Without a soul? My spirit sleeping somewhere cold, until you find it there and lead it back home._

Someone called through the portrait hole to her and she tore off her head set, thinking it was him. But when she swung open the painting she only found Ron, smiling hesitantly.

"Hey, Mione," he greeted softly, shifting from foot to foot. She smiled. Now _that_ was a distraction.

"Hullo, Ron." She waved for him to follow her back to her room. She didn't notice him scowl at the random bits of clothing Draco had scattered around the room. She sat back down on her bed beside her still playing iPod.

_Wake me up inside, wake me up inside. Call my name and save me from the dark._

Ron pushed his hair off his forehead, frowning as he sat down at her desk and was faced by one of Draco's leather notebooks, stamped with the Malfoy crest. She wondered how she had ever been attracted to Ron; he wasn't anything really special. It went unsaid that he paled in comparison to Draco.

"So what's up?" she asked, pulling his attention away from the innocent stationery, which he had been glaring daggers at.

"I just wanted to see how you were; you seemed out of sorts when you ran out of Charms earlier." She twitched at the mention of Charms. They had made such a scene.

_Bid my blood to run, before I come undone. Save me from the nothing I've become. _

She chuckled as he looked around blankly, searching for the source of her loud music.

"I'm fine, just," she leaned back into her pillows, giggling as she unearthed a pair of Draco's trousers that had _somehow_ fallen behind the bed. Ron glared at them in horror. "I just have a lot on my mind." He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

"Like Malfoy." She nodded vaguely. "Mione, what's going on between you two?" She really would have laughed.

"I honestly don't know," she responded, sitting up to face him. He looked concerned, but in more of a 'Are you insane?' way than just a 'Just tell me, I'll play Doctor Weasley'. Knowing Ron would get pissed off but still let her talk, she decided to tell him parts of the truth, lowering the volume on her iPod so he could hear her, and the singing faded to a faint roar. "We weren't anything serious, but you know…" Ron winced as she sighed. Obviously he knew Hermione enough to trust her judgment, but didn't feel the need to agree. "It's just so much more."

"So much more how?" he asked, trying to sound interested and not revolted. She shrugged.

"He just makes me feel different. Like I'm special or something." Ron's eyebrows rose as he pretended to gag. "Oh stop it, I'm being serious!"

"Just as long as you know this is _Malfoy_, you're lusting after. This _is_ a pureblooded, bigoted, ex-Death Eater."

"He's not a Death Eater," she interrupted. He looked back, smirking as if to challenge the idea. "He doesn't have the mark."

"And you know that _how?"_ he questioned. She opened her mouth, but he added, "You know what? I don't even want to know. But why is the git so special, how is he different from every other guy?"

"He just is, I don't know. It just comes down to the fact that he makes me feel things no one else has." Ron sighed in disgust and revulsion, and she scoffed. "Not like that, you plank, we haven't done that yet." He didn't look much better, but didn't protest.

"Prove it." That didn't sound nearly as sexy as it did when Draco said it.

"What? How?" He shrugged, though he was smirking all of a sudden. She looked at him with a mix of fear and hesitation.

"I dunno. Kiss me and see if I make you feel the same way." Her jaw dropped as he got up to sit on the foot of her bed.

"Ron! No!"

"What, scared I'll be better than your little Malferret?" Now powered by competition and the need to defend Draco's honor, she did something she would learn to regret for a very long time. She waved him up and said,

"Fine, but no tongue and no unnecessary touching." He nodded, completely nonchalant. Though her instincts were telling her that this was a very bad idea, Hermione pulled him by the hand up to sit next to her, eager to prove to herself that she was no longer lovesick for her best friend. That she had done better. Ron waited for instruction, his blue eyes wide in anticipation. "And can we agree not to tell anyone about this?" He rolled his eyes.

"Of course, if Lav found out…" Hermione sighed and interrupted.

"About me or Parvati?" He glared at her.

"Both, bookworm. Now shut up and kiss me!" Sending him a look that could freeze hell over, she scoffed under her breath, before leaning over and kissing him softly on the lips, waiting to feel something.

But there was nothing. No spark, no gasp, no jaw dropping clarity. It wasn't anything special, which only further proved what she already knew. Draco was the only guy for her, 100. This was just awkward. Ron placed his hand on her knee, leaning further into her, but she furrowed her brow and pushed him away. He blinked at her and jutted his chin out, inquiring for her evaluation.

"Did that totally suck?" she asked brutally, as she wiped her mouth on her hand. He laughed as he stood up, smoothing down his shirt.

"You obviously prefer white fur to red hair," he joked warmly, smiling contently. "Good luck with the prick, I'll see you tomorrow." She nodded and waved him out of the room, before turning up her iPod again, not realizing she had just doomed herself to two months of solitude.

_Save me from the nothing I've become. Bring me to life. I've been living a lie, there's nothing inside. Bring me to life._

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"Okay Draco, this should be easy. Just go in there and tell her you love her. Say it slowly, 'Hermione, I love you.' See, that was easy! Just do it," Draco schooled himself as he stood outside the portrait hole, tapping his foot. Wet, messy, and completely nervous, it was safe to say that never in his life had a Malfoy looked worse. But he really didn't care. "You already know she loved you, just go in there and kiss her. Yes, perfect. Kiss her, and then say it. 'Hermione, I really love you.'" Taking a deep breath, he entered the room, shivering slightly. Draco walked to Hermione's door, but someone speaking stopped him in his tracks. Pressing his eye against the frame, he saw it was his Hermione, of course, sitting with Weasley.

"And can we agree not to tell anyone about this?" Draco frowned as the redhead scooted further up the bed. What was going on? The eager look of a horny boy was spread across the Weasel's face, something only a fellow boy could notice, and Draco did notice.

"Of course, if Lav found out…"

"About me or Parvati?" Those were two names he would never put together. What did Ron, Parvati, Lavender, and Hermione have in common? But it clicked with Weasley's next order.

"Both bookworm, now shut up and kiss me." Draco's jaw dropped. She did. His girlfriend…

And Ron Weasley.

Feeling numb, he went back to his room and sunk onto his bed, curling up into a ball even though he was still in his wet clothes. Empty without something to wrap himself around, he pulled one of his pillows toward him, and clung to it hopelessly, as his world slowly began to fall apart.

What should he do? Draco closed his eyes and breathed deeply, ignoring the image of his Hermione with that pauper. He fell asleep immediately, and didn't dream.

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It was still raining. Though no longer drenching anyone outside from head to toe, the rain still fell, setting the tone for Narcissa Malfoy's funeral. Draco held the front right corner of his mother's black coffin, with a tiny rain droplet on the tip of his perky nose. He did not cry. Everything was still numb.

They set it down on a pedestal to the side of the Malfoy mausoleum, next to the already dusty coffin of Lucius Malfoy. Draco glared at it accusingly. All he could think about during the eulogies and the final goodbyes was that Lucius was the reason. _You're the reason_.

People patted him on the back as they left; whispering condolences and wishing him well. The Daily Prophet even snapped a picture when they thought that he wasn't looking. It didn't matter. Dumbledore left too, leaving Draco alone in the shadowed building, alone with the family who had deserted him, who had left him to represent the aged morals that made his relationship with Hermione impossible.

"I took your advice, Mother," he said quietly, looking down at the closed casket. "I opened up to someone." The silence was unforgiving and offered no help, only bit his ankles with the chill. "I opened up to someone, but it wasn't enough." He glared at his pointy dress shoes, as if the steel tips were to blame for his misery. "It wasn't enough, Mother, _I don't know why!_" Draco's first tear slid down his cheek, and he wiped it away with his sleeve. "She chose a Weasley over me! I thought she _loved_ me!" He sat down, leaning his back against the side of the coffin. "And the sad thing is I still love her, even now! A Mudblood, Mother, a Mudblood broke my heart. You and Father must be so proud. I can hear him rolling over right now." He laughed humorlessly, stretching his legs out in front of him. "You're supposed to be here, to tell me _what to fucking do!_" When no dawning realization to his problems came, he put his head in his hands, remembering his parents.

'We're better than these people, Draco, look at them,' Lucius said as he pointed to the Muggles with the tip of his serpent-topped cane. 'We're better than almost everyone, and we must lead them, and look in control and powerful at all times. You must always remember that at school, and beat that Potter boy!'

When Draco Malfoy returned to Hogwarts it was with a stoic expression and a new resolve.

He'd put that Mudblood Granger back in her place.

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**A/N: And so it begins, the second half. DO NOT FREAK! It's just getting good. I'm on such a roll with this story lately; I've already got the next two chapters written in my notebook. And only eight days left! And I'm sorry for the lack of updates for "Where White Meets Black," I have writers block for it. Teaser?**

"_Draco, you're scaring me." He glared at her, sending her stumbling slightly backwards. It was like before the attraction, when he hated her with all his being. He sneered._

**Then later:**

_Draco turned around, baffled, to see an enraged Weasley wielding a very large book._

**The next chapter is _gigantic_, as you can see. It's really good, too, with yelling, an attempt at murder, and lots of tears. –Grins- **

See you all later.

Final word count: 2694


	15. The Idiotic Things Boys Do

**A/N: Scared yet? I know, don't worry about Draco. This IS a Dramione fic, and it will NOT end unhappily. But be aware that this story is only half over; so don't be scared of the yelling, cursing, and book slamming in these upcoming chapters. Sorry, but it makes good action! And that's what you all want! **

**Anyway, thank you for all the reviews; I'm almost averaging at 50 reviews per chapter. Hopefully, I'll get to 1000 reviews by the end of the summer. And possibly a Dramione award? Hint hint? And guess how many people have me on their alert list? 254! How amazing is that? Can you believe it? _254 people!_**

**Oh, and also this is important! The people to be my 700th, 800th, and 900th reviewers will get walk-on roles in 'Magnetic Attraction', and my 1000th review (it will happen!) will get a main part in 'My Past, His Present, Your Future'. Comprende?**

**Disclaimer: I can snare Christian Coulson, I can stalk Tom Felton, I can memorize all of the Harry Potter books, and win in every category in the 'He Had It Coming' Awards, but I still will never own Harry Potter. Sorry. **

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**Chapter 15: The Idiotic Things Boys Do**

The sky was gray and the rain was steady, but Hermione was positively beaming when she woke up late on Saturday morning. She rolled over, throwing her arm over to the other side of the bed, expecting Draco to yelp and growl at her, but she only hit her pillows. That only made her smile grow wider. He _loved_ her.

Feeling fresh and rejuvenated, she leapt out of bed and got dressed in a frenzy, only just glancing at the clock. It was already ten, meaning he would have already left for his mother's funeral. She sighed in relief that she wouldn't have to go, but at the same time wondered why he hadn't left a note or something, and why he hadn't stepped by the previous night. But it didn't really matter, he would see her soon. Because he was in love with her.

She would make him lunch! Oh, that would be so perfect and cheer him up. After a trip down to the kitchens, Hermione had more food than two people could eat, but accepted the basket the house elves gave her with a smile. She set their kitchen table quickly, laying everything out on the china painted with the Hogwarts crest. She even hummed under her breath, still smiling brilliantly. This would be her day, _their_ day. Then they would go do something completely clichéd and corny, just because they could, like go to Madame Puddifoot's, or go flying on his broom again. The possibilities were endless, because _she_ had a boyfriend.

_A totally hot boyfriend_, she reminded herself as she put on his Slytherin school tie as a belt, _just because she could. Who loves you!_ It was a total squee moment. Where was Ginny when she needed her?

The common room portrait flew open on its hinges, startling her. She dropped her hairbrush on the bathroom floor with a large crack, before dashing out into the common room. Draco was halfway to his bedroom door, shivering off rain, when she made it, and she called out,

"Draco!" He froze, his hands balling into fists. She blinked as he kept his back to her, biting her lip. She could see he was breathing heavily, his shoulders rising up and down quickly. "Why didn't you come in last night? I waited for you for a while." She smiled feebly; a little scared by the angst-ridden appearance of her boyfriend. He didn't answer, but slowly turned around. She took a step back.

He looked almost unrecognizable, no longer the kind, caring, gentle boy who had kissed her and held her when she was scared. Draco was gone, but Malfoy was back. And his eyes were cold, showing the turmoil and anger and _frustration_ that brewed in their gray depths. His hair was pasted to his forehead from rain, his glistening with a mixture of dried tears and more raindrops. And he was scowling, one corner of his lips curled upwards. Hermione gulped, fingering the soft material of her shirt. "Draco, you're scaring me." He glared at her, sending her stumbling slightly backwards. It was like before the attraction, when he hated her with all his being. He sneered.

"Mudblood slut," he hissed, softly but full of anger and hate. Her eyes widened.

"Draco, stop it. This isn't funny!" He took a step forward, his movements stiff and forced. He backed her up into the wall, pressing into her so that she couldn't twist her neck to look up at him. His hot breath tickled her ear, and she closed her eyes, almost frightened. For a second she thought he had just been joking, and he placed his hand on her hip, his fingers fumbling with the tie. The smell of cold damp air and dust lingered on his black dress robes, and she breathed it in deeply, seeking some relief and reassurance. This wasn't him; this was the cold, heartless, bastard Malfoy. He leant his head against hers and whispered gently, almost seductively,

"Keep your scummy hands off my things," before brutally yanking his tie out of her belt loops. She yelped, her eyes flying open, as he stepped back, stuffing the belt into his pocket, before spitting on the ground next to her feet. She stared in shock into his eyes, and saw that hidden and covered by the loyalty to Slytherin and honor to his family, there was a small amount of remorse. Then he swept away into his room, slamming his door behind him, as she slid down the wall to the floor and cried.

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Ginny smiled at Harry over the chessboard. He furrowed his brow as her queen reduced his knight to dust. She sighed. Things were so good these days, with Voldemort gone and so many innocent deaths avenged. Sure the survivors were still haunted in the dark by the shadows of those who had died, but things were undoubtedly better. Winning had done wonders for Harry, who was no longer so scared of letting loose and having fun. However, it had reopened wounds for some people, and Hermione was strangely quiet and withdrawn lately. It took a fellow girl to notice her change in eating habits, and only recently had Hermione rejoined them at meals. Ginny had to give it to Malfoy; he alone had been able to wake up their friend.

Ron and Harry were classic boys, and didn't see how they had been leaving their friend behind, but Ginny did try to include Hermione as much as possible. It was unfortunate that she was not interested in Quidditch like the other two, making it hard to find things to do together, and her lack of a boyfriend made things worse, causing her to feel like a fifth wheel. Plus, she had to take into consideration Hermione's old crush on Ron, which had made her reluctant to come out of the library at all.

But now with Malfoy, the equation was more equal. She was eating; she was relaxing. Hermione wasn't bothered by Lavender, and everything was just… better; she couldn't think of another way to say it. But Ron was as jealous as hell; it was obvious.

The portrait hole flew open and Ginny and Harry looked up automatically, expecting to see a group of rowdy fifth years or perhaps Neville back from his brunch date with Luna, only to find Hermione herself crawling through, looking like death walking. Ginny leapt up immediately when she saw the pronounced tear trails, as did Harry, and quickly waved her over, leaving room between her boyfriend and herself. Hermione stumbled over, and all the Gryffindors who had been crowded inside by the rain looked up expectantly, as if their Head Girl's sudden appearance would automatically sprout gossip. When they sat back down, Hermione cuddled against Harry's chest, something Ginny knew was purely platonic and had no problem with.

"Oh, Merlin, Hermione, what happened?" she asked, pulling Hermione's legs onto her lap so she could stretch out across them. The brunette shook her head frantically, clinging to her best friend, who looked more confused than ever before. "Mione, what went wrong? Ron said you seemed fine last night!" Ginny gulped, sending a nervous glance at Harry, who had chosen to deny that his female best friend was in love with his longest enemy, and had not reacted well when Ron had insisted it was true the previous night. But Harry just stroked Hermione's back, cooing softly to comfort her.

"I- I dunno what changed!" Hermione stammered, sobbing uncontrollably. "He s-seemed different and- and called me a- a- a- slut!" Harry and Ginny looked up at each other, knowing whom she was discussing automatically. They stiffened as she continued, "He w-was really cruel, he- he went back to being M- Malferret!" From then on all other things said by the Gryffindor were incomprehensible. Harry felt his protective side take over and want to throttle Malfoy, but he would have to wait to invoke his famous caps-lock rage.

Ron stumbled down the boy's dormitory steps, only just waking up, and scanned the room for his friends. Upon seeing one such friend bawling her eyes out, he immediately ran over and sat down on the coffee table across from them. Making eye contact with his younger sister, he mouthed,

"What is it?" She pinched the bridge of her nose, before mouthing in return,

"Malfoy."

Ron saw red.

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Draco couldn't take the loud sound of Hermione crying in the next room without being able to help, so he left. She didn't even notice him as he grabbed his book bag and headed to the library, all the while forcing away guilt and regret. She'd crumpled in front of him, completely clueless! He should be happy; he was part of the way towards total revenge! But it didn't feel right; not those hopeless eyes staring up at him full of fear.

_She made out with Weasley a few hours after you admitted you loved her_, he reminded himself. _You can do better than a tramp like that!_

_But she admitted she loved you at the same time you did! Why would she fool around with him?_ Another part of him argued, sounding revoltingly like Harry Potter. He growled at the voice, throwing open a set of doors.

Because she's a Mudblood slut, that's why! It didn't add up, but he ignored it. It was time to get his normal life back. He'd go see Pansy later, get a Hermione replacement. Though his conscious feared Pansy and her multiple personalities, he didn't want to fall asleep alone again. Then again, asking a fellow Slytherin for comfort was never a good idea, as they had a habit of exploiting your weaknesses as soon as they identified them.

The library was full of students, who crammed around tables to do their homework and study. Uncomfortable with the countless heads that turned to stare at him when he entered, he kept walking past the desks to a small alcove away from the hustle and bustle. It was already inhabited by a first-year Ravenclaw, but Draco sneered at him and the young pre-teen scampered away like a startled mouse. It felt nice to be able to terrorize young children again without Hermione scolding him like a mere toddler.

_You must call her Granger_, he reprimanded himself as he laid out his books in front of him, though with a scowl he saw he didn't have his leather-bound planner. _Or Mudblood, or the Gryffindor Slut or something._ But the memory of her smiling placidly when he first called her Mya taunted him, as if it were pulling his hair. Frustrated, Draco pulled out the tie he had violently reclaimed from Her- _Granger. Always Granger._ He balled it up in fury. It smelled like her, the soft scent of the library itself along with the rosy mix of her shampoo. The teenager couldn't catch a break. But it was going to get far worse.

Something or someone clonked him sharply on the back of his head; sending his face smashing against he desk in front of him. He groaned as something in his nose snapped, and drew his hand to his face as he lifted his head off the desk. Thick droplets of blood smeared his fingers. Draco turned around to see an enraged Weasley wielding a large, heavy book, and glaring murderously as Draco cursed himself for forgetting about Her- _Granger's_ boyfriends.

"What did you _do_ to her?" the red head snarled, thwacking him on the head again. Draco's head was ringing, as he stood up, shaky on his feet, as his nose continued dripping floods. "She was so _happy_ when I saw her last night!" Weasley abandoned his book and kicked him in the shins, making him crumple backwards, knocking his shoulder on the corner of the desk. "Where do you get off, you asshole? She loves you!" Draco retaliated and swung his leg under Weasley's ankles, making him lose his balance and topple down onto his butt.

"I didn't do anything to her!" he yelled back; standing up, blood pulsing in his head. Weasley did the same quickly, relatively unhurt. "That bitch cheated on me!" Weasley shoved him in the chest with a roar, sending him falling backwards over the desk. He yelled feebly as his leg twisted at a bad angle, breaking it cleanly. Weasley walked around the desk, advancing like a lion on its prey.

"Hermione doesn't _cheat_ and don't you _dare_ call her a bitch!"

"You liar, I _saw_ you two last night! What? Aren't two girlfriends enough for you? Why'd you have to take mine?" Weasley sneered and quickly grabbed him by the throat, hoisting him up the wall. Draco's breathing was impaired, and he felt lights shutting off. Ron grinned fierily as his victim's eyes closed, and let him fall to the floor. He watched as some random Slytherin came and levitated Draco to the infirmary, and he remained smiling as McGonagall reluctantly gave him a month's detention with Filch and took a hundred points from Gryffindor.

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Harry and Ginny managed to calm Hermione down in about twenty minutes, never noticing that Ron had left in a rage and never come back. Hiccupping ever so often, she managed to recount to them Draco's freak-out. They grew steadily angrier as she grew more depressed. So much for that bad feeling…

"I just don't get it," she mumbled, staring up at Harry with her head in his lap. He smiled sympathetically. "This time yesterday I was nodding off on his shoulder, and now he's just completely different." Harry doubted Draco had ever changed in the first place, but knew better than to tell her otherwise when she was only just calming down. Plus, Ginny would probably hit him. "Should I go talk to him?" He resisted the urge to ask her if she was crazy, but thankfully Ginny took over for him.

"No, just let him sort out his issues." Hermione nodded, listening intently. "He's probably just nervous and worried that you don't feel the same way or something stupid like that." Harry rolled his eyes, still annoyed that they were talking about Malfoy as if he were a normal person. They didn't notice. "You have to realize, Mione, that there's a lot in his head telling him this is a bad idea. His parents have left him to continue the Malfoy way of life, and that does not include a Muggleborn Gryffindor. He'll come around eventually, but for now he had to sort out whether the pressures put on him are more important than how much he loves you."

"How do you know everything, Gin?" Hermione asked with a small smile. "You should write a book explaining all of the idiotic things boys do." Ginny waved the compliment off as Harry sighed. Damn girl talk. Where was Ron to keep up the testosterone levels?

"Just wait, Mione, he'll come back to you eventually," Ginny said wisely. The room around them grew quiet suddenly, and the trio looked up, and following the pointed fingers of their fellow Gryffindors, they saw a disheveled, bloody-fisted, smirking Ronald Weasley, who gave them all a maniacal wave. Harry gulped, before asking, his voice level after anger management coaching courtesy of Ginny,

"What did you do, Ron?" He swaggered over, looking down at the confused Hermione with a smug expression, before plopping down next to them on a cushy armchair.

"I have completed the ultimate Gryffindor dream. Hermione, you're going to love me." She eyed him warily as she sat up, while Ginny hesitantly asked,

"What are you talking about?" Ron lifted up his bloody fist.

"I defended Hermione's honor by putting that asshole Malfoy in the hospital wing indefinitely." Hermione gasped, her hand fluttering to her chest as Ron leaned back in his seat. Harry groaned. Just what he needed.

"_What?_ Ronald, how _could_ you? Is he okay?" Ron shrugged, unbothered by her horrified expression. Hermione stood up, her mouth open. "Please tell me you didn't _kill_ him!"

"I don't think he's dead. Bummer. But I can proudly say he passed out and I think I broke his leg. Zabini had to take him to the hospital wing." Ginny made a growl of disgust as Hermione sneered in fury, looking much like she wanted to put _him_ in the infirmary. But instead, preferring to run to her (ex?) boyfriend's side than to throttling her friend, she bolted out the door.

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"The poor boy was in a lot of pain when he came up here. How he felt I can only imagine. Luckily, the break in his leg was clean and he won't have to endure Skele-Gro. I've set it in a cast instead, just so I can concentrate on his other problems. I also gave him a potion so he'll stay unconscious for a few more hours. However, the nasty bruises on his shoulder, back, face, and the back of his neck need a salve applied before he goes to sleep and when he wakes up, so that's bound to upset him. Mr. Weasley may have done some lasting damage."

Hermione was close to tears as she looked down at Draco. He was sleeping peacefully, but his appearance was not so innocent. Ron had left this mark, and the blond's usually pale, colorless face was now blanketed with purple and blue, along with a few raw scrapes on the back of his head where Ron had dragged him up the wall. She sat down in a stiff wooden chair by his bedside, only partly listening to Madame Pomfrey as the woman rubbed salve across Draco's shoulder. The boy had his shirt off, and Hermione resisted the urge to rest her head against it and curl up in a ball.

This was why they couldn't be together. Ron had seemed supportive the previous night, but now he had to do _this_. And this was _bad_. Draco would never want to get back together now, after an ass-kicking courtesy of her best friend. He looked an absolute mess, so hopeless.

"Ms. Granger, could you continue this for me? I need to check on another patient," Madame Pomfrey asked, handing her the small tub of salve. Hermione nodded, and hesitantly dipped her finger into the thick white cream before leaning over to stroke it across his neck. Realizing she was seated too far away, she got up to perch on the edge of his bed. For unknown reasons she felt nervous around him, even as he slept, because she had been so thrown off course when he'd yelled at her. When he awoke, would he be the kind and considerate Draco who she loved, of the vicious asshole who had called her Mudblood for years? She smeared another glob of the ointment over the hand-shaped bruise around his neck.

"Poor baby," she cooed to the boy, letting her fingers linger. This was so tiring. A break-up, a crying jag, and now a bloodied ex who she didn't want as an ex in the first place. She just wanted to take a nap. Surely Madam Pomfrey wouldn't mind if she just slid in next to Draco? She was Head Girl after all. No one would notice, and she wouldn't do anything.

After finishing tending to Draco and putting the tub back down on the nightstand, she laid down next to him, above the covers, of course. She drifted off quickly, comforted by his steady breathing next to her ear.

Madame Pomfrey smiled approvingly at the star-crossed couple, and closed the curtains around their bed. They would get one night of peace, and no one would interrupt the final night of silence.

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**A/N: Ah yes, the final night of silence. Soon to be interrupted by Pansy, song fiction, falling off brooms, and more dreams, of both Hermione and Draco. Please review, I have a goal to get to 1000 reviews before the end of the summer. Can you please help me fill it? Teaser?**

"_You don't really think that," she whispered, rain dripping down her nose as he snarled at her. "Don't lie to yourself, Draco, and don't lie to Hermione."_

**Yeah, have fun guessing. And please review. Go read my A/N, it's all listed there!**

**Later!**

**Final Word Count: 3599**


	16. When You Mess with Gryffindors

**A/N: Ok, I know some of you won't actually believe this, but I got over 130 reviews for the last chapter! How cool is that? 1000 reviews, here I come! The overflow of reviews is in part the effort of all of my fantastic friends from camp, who have been leaving me reviews. Yay! I love you guys!**

**Anyway, I was very surprised by all of your guesses for who was talking in the teaser for this chapter. As if it would be Pansy? That's kind of shocking, seeing as she hates Hermione… anyway, Ginny was closer. But sorry, most of- wait, all of- you were wrong. Ta da! Here is the answer.**

**And please read the A/N at the bottom, it's also important.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. But I'll trade you all of my DVDs for Draco Malfoy. If you can get me rights to Tom Riddle, I'll throw in my air conditioner and a few computers.**

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**Chapter 16: When You Mess with Gryffindors**

"_You don't want to do this, Draco," Hermione said from across the boat. He scowled, wishing he could return to shore but having no means of doing so. Instead he settled for pulling at his collar, trying to ignore the eleven-year-old, bushy haired, buck-toothed girl staring up at him. But she was making it very hard. "If you love her, you should believe there's more to the story." Draco tried to think of something else, of Quidditch, but it wasn't working well. "The Hermione you know wouldn't ever cheat, would she? Especially if she loved you."_

'Bludgers, catching the snitch, shoving Potter off his broom,'_ he thought to himself, watching the water ripple as raindrops spluttered the surface._

"_You should apologize; I hope you know you acted like a right arse." The preteen seemed to be enjoying herself, and twirled a springy strand of hair around her finger, a habit she still had today. Draco ignored the quirk. "She was crying for at least an hour, and probably ran straight to Harry and Ron."_

'Tossing the quaffle, flying, waving silver and green banners, yelling fan girls.'

"_You probably deserved that ass-kicking; you really hurt her! Screw Malfoy honor and dignity, you love her and that's all that matters!" Unable to restrain himself any longer, Draco looked away from the shifting water toward the girl, glaring at her first year uniform. She crossed her stockinged legs, folding her skirt neatly beneath her knees._

"_That's not _all_ that matters, you immature little twerp, I need to represent my family! And dating that whore will not be doing so!" She blinked at him as she shrunk away, her doe eyes growing wide._

"_She's not a whore, she had her reasons," she protested feebly, but he didn't listen._

"_And furthermore, she's not even that _special! _She's not beautiful, she doesn't like Quidditch, she's a best friend of Potter and Weasley, and on top of that, she's a fucking mudblood! She goes against everything I believe in!" Hermione cringed, scooting dangerously backwards on the stern of the boat._

"_You don't really think that," she whispered, rain dripping down her nose as he snarled at her. "Don't lie to yourself and don't lie to Hermione." He stood up, jostling the boat from side to side. She screamed in shock as she fell backwards, falling into the water with a small splash. Suddenly scared, he leaned over to try and see her, extending a hand to grab her, but she sank, feet first. She stared up at him, not even attempting to swim, and the disappointed look in those brown eyes chilled him to the bone._

He woke up feeling guilty, but the guilt was soon pushed out of his mind to be replaced by shock to find the seventeen-year-old Hermione Granger asleep on his chest. His head ached as he took in the dark infirmary around him. Her pressing down on his chest put weight on his smarting shoulder and struck with the memory of her kissing Weasley on her bed; he sneered and shoved her off the bed and onto the floor. She awoke with a thud and groaned as she sat up, rubbing at her eyes. He only regretted it for a second, but then she smiled and said as if nothing was wrong, "How are you feeling?"

Draco sneered before responding sarcastically, "Absolutely spiffing, Mudblood, how are you?"

She winced, reminding him of his dream Hermione, before standing up and saying, "Confused, actually, thanks for asking. Were you planning on telling me why you have turned into such a jerk anytime soon?" She crossed her arms and glared at him, looking unnaturally sexy. Who was she kidding, playing innocent? Honestly, what a liar. _No one_ lied to a Malfoy.

"Don't play games with me, Granger, we both know what's going on." He rolled his eyes as he slid out of bed, only to have his leg ache and look down to discover he was sporting an ugly white Muggle cast. He sat back down as she looked doubtfully at him.

"No, actually, I don't. All I know is that you bolted out of charms, only to come back the next morning and scream at me! Why don't _you_ tell _me_ why you're abandoning our relationship?" He scoffed, offended by her insinuation. Talk about the bloody cauldron and kettle! Abandoning the relationship? Ha! Stupid wench didn't know that he was much better informed.

"I think you did enough abandoning for the both of us, Granger. Or what, did Weasley just _trip_ on your mangy cat and fall onto your lips?" She gasped, taking a step backwards. He smirked, victorious. "Were you going to accuse me of backing out now?" Hermione bit her lip, shocked, as he added, "Not even going to deny it, Granger?"

She took a deep breath, straightening her slacked posture, before slowly responding, "I can't deny what you saw, Draco, but I assure that it's not what you think!"

"Mudblood, I practically _invented_ that line. And I'm sure it _is_ what I think." She opened her mouth, but he continued before she could get a word in. "Look, I don't have the patience for this. Why don't you just go sleep with Weasley and leave me out of your pathetic love triangle, mkay?" Her face morphed as she began to cry silently, looking hopeless. A tiny part of him wanted to apologize, to throw himself at her feet and beg for forgiveness, but he forced a smirk.

"No, please, Draco! You have to believe me when I say that it didn't mean anything!"

"That's Malfoy to you, Granger. No go cry to Weasley about rejection, bitch." She struggled to harness her tears but was unsuccessful. Struck with a cruel idea that would hopefully keep her away from him until he stopped caring about her, he fished around in the pocket of his trousers and pulled out his balled-up tie. Grinning maliciously, he flung it at her shoulder, where it hung pitifully. "Here's something to obsess over, a gift from me to you so you can show your redheaded pauper grandchildren how once you had the honor of sleeping beside Draco Malfoy. Better keep it safe, or they might not believe you."

She went into hysterics and twisted around, her steps slippery on the floor, and ran out of the infirmary doors, the tie still tucked under her arm.

Hermione cried herself to sleep, all alone in her cold, empty bed, while a very upset Draco struggled to convince himself that this was what he wanted. He wasn't able to.

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She packed a duffle bag with a night's worth of pajamas, a fresh change of clothes, and her iPod. On Sunday morning, she vanished the red circles from around her eyes and closed the door to her bedroom with a tiny click. With the sun barely peeking out from behind the still-present rain clouds, she tiptoed up to Gryffindor tower, too late to run into patrollers and too early to meet any other students. It was only six o'clock and most normal people were still in bed or having breakfast in the Great Hall. But the common room was not empty, as she had expected. Harry was reading the _Sunday Prophet_ in an armchair by the fire, turning the pages with one hand and holding a coffee mug in the other. She sat down by his feet, dropping the duffle bag.

He sighed and folded up the paper, before dropping it onto the table and placing his hand on top of her fluffy head. She smothered the urge to purr like a cat, but relaxed against his leg, resting her cheek against his knee. For a few minutes they sat in silence, as if they were back in first year, not yet having met Voldemort at all, as if still innocent and not yet cursed by puberty and murder. But Harry ended it, knowing it wouldn't last.

"So I'm guessing he didn't come crawling back?" She stiffened, but didn't move, and only closed her eyes. She reopened them when the events of the previous night began to play across her eyelids. Slowly she shook her head, her skin brushing against the soft fabric of his jeans. "How bad was it?"

Hermione sighed, before lifting her head and twisting to face him. He looked down at her sympathetically. "He called me 'Granger' four times, 'Mudblood' twice, and 'bitch' once, all in about five minutes," she said, her voice monotone. Harry took a deep breath, which she knew was a way for him to restrain himself. "And he found out that I kissed Ron." Harry pulled his hand off her head as if she had been a hot stove, and looked at her in shock.

"What? When did you kiss Ron?" he asked quickly, though he kept his voice low. She was grateful, for she didn't need both of Ron's jealous girlfriends after her blood too.

"It's a long story," she said, waving him off the subject. "The point is that I kissed him. It was purely experimental, neither of us felt anything, and apparently Draco saw it." He gaped at her, and she looked back at the floor anxiously. "I was only kissing him to see if every guy made me feel the way Draco did." Her excuse was met by silence. "Oh for Merlin's sake, Harry, would you close your mouth?" He started and blinked, before shivering.

"Man, Hermione, you fucked up big time." Se glared at him, half surprised that he even knew how to swear, half that he had the nerve to swear at _her_.

"_Harry_!" He held up his hands as if to say 'whatever'.

"But you did, Hermione, even _I_ know that you can't cheat on Draco Malfoy!" He kneaded his forehead with his fist, sighing deeply.

Put out, she scowled at her day shoes and mumbled, "I wasn't _cheating_."

He raised his eyebrows, challenging this, before asking, "Then what was it?" Hermione floundered, her mouth flapping open and shut uselessly. He narrowed his eyes. "That's what I thought. You hurt his pride, Mione; no guy wants to walk in on his girlfriend with another guy, especially if they were already feeling insecure about the relationship."

"Well then what do I do?" He just stared at her. "_Harry_, please help me! I love him and I don't want to lose him!" He looked out the window, then back to her. She gave him puppy eyes, something Draco had taught her to do when they had been bored during patrol. Harry looked away again, biting his lip.

"Mione, you know I'm not the relationship expert, but if you want my advice, tell him. Tell him that you love him tonight, and if he's still an asshole, forget about him and I'll go finish what Ron started." She smiled thankfully, sitting up onto her knees. Harry smiled helplessly back.

"Do you really think I should?" she asked cheerfully, as if she were asking, '_Can I really go buy an ice cream_?' He looked hesitant momentarily, but nodded. He was tremendously surprised when she hugged him around his knees, in the same manner as Dobby the house-elf. "Thank you so much for the advice, Harry, really! Can I lie low here today?" He nodded, watching as she stood up and grabbed her duffle bag. "Do you mind if I go crash on your bed? I didn't sleep very well last night."

"Sure." She ran off, though not before kissing him on the cheek. Once she was safely up the stairs, he whispered what was really on his mind. "Bloody effing hell."

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0MA0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

_This is a bad idea._

"It's necessary."

_No it's not._

"This is better."

_Doubtful._

"It is!" His inner Potter voice didn't dignify his insistent whine with an answer. Sighing deeply, Draco gathered his wits, straightened his posture, and finally said, "Welcome Back, Draco," to the portrait of the clichéd green serpent that guarded the entrance of the Slytherin common room. It swung open and he fearlessly climbed through the portrait hole and into the dark dungeon. Seeing as it was Sunday afternoon, almost everyone from the house was sitting at the tables scattered through the room, working on the homework they had put off all weekend. Pansy was sitting with a gaggle of girls cramming for Divination, which would make his job harder.

They all looked up like they had Malfoy radar, and instantly started giggling and winking flirtatiously at him. He hid his gag with a smirk and sauntered over to their table, falling easily into his old role, making sure he looked only at Pansy. She knew him better than everyone else, excluding Hermione, and would be most likely to do what he asked as a personal favor. Pansy smirked back at him, her expression smug and arrogant. It wasn't a good change from Hermione's innocent smiles, but he forced the thought from his mind.

"Hey, Pansy," he drawled, leaning his palms against the table across from her. The other girls all cooed as they squirmed to sit closer to her, as if being in her presence would make them more attractive. He could practically imagine Hermione rolling her eyes.

"Draco," she drawled in return.

_This is a very bad idea._

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked confidently, and all the girls bit their glossed lips to keep from squealing. Pansy sent a look to her friends, clearly saying, '_I told you so_,' before nodding and standing up, her long skirt swishing menacingly. Pansy followed him to a corner in the dungeon, where his confidence faded slightly. She folded her arms across her chest, where likewise her sultry attitude was replaced by a warped concern.

"Earth to Drake?"

"Sorry. I wanted to ask you a favor." She raised her eyebrows, waving for him to go on. He looked down at the floor, pushing back his hair with his hand. "Can you spend the night with me?" She laughed a humorless dark laugh that anyone who was not well-informed would not have known Pansy was capable of. He looked up, and she just couldn't help but cackle at the confused expression on his face.

"What, no suave pickup lines or sensual kissing? I may be all over you in public, but it doesn't mean I'm stupid. If you want sex, fine. But why the change in approach?" He gulped nervously as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger.

"I don't want sex; I just don't want to fall asleep alone again, alright?" He scowled and leant against the wall as she smiled and 'awed'. It was a sign of how well Pansy knew him that she didn't laugh in his face.

"Did widdy Dwakie get used to sweeping with the Mudbwood?" she asked in a babyish voice, leaning over so that she was right in his face. He glared at her, already having known it would come to this.

"Five galleons," he whispered murderously, completely mortified. She shook her head. "Six galleons."

"Twenty," she haggled, smiling slightly. He rolled his eyes.

"Eight," he snapped.

"That's chump change. Seventeen."

"Ten."

"Fifteen."

"Twelve."

"Thirteen."

"Done." They shook on it like businessmen. Pansy coughed awkwardly. Draco rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. "So swing by around eleven, the password is Finite Incantantum." She nodded. "And I can give you the money tomorrow." With a peck on the cheek, Pansy swept off in a cloud of perfume, back to her group of laughing friends. Draco rolled his eyes again. Who understood girls anyway?

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0MA0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

How on earth was one supposed to prepare for Pansy? Draco combed his hair, made his bed, and brutally shoved under the bed anything embarrassing that she could possibly take the wrong way. Fate seemed to be on his side tonight, and Hermione hadn't appeared since he'd seen her in the hospital wing. He didn't let himself worry about her, and focused on just getting a good night's sleep. He wouldn't waste his time.

What he couldn't decide on was what to wear. Seriously, though, boxers or pajamas? It wasn't like she hadn't seen his underwear before, or seen him without it for that matter, but it seemed inappropriate. It made him feel guilty, though he wasn't sure why.

Wait a minute, was he feeling guilty about sleeping with someone else other than Hermione? That wouldn't do, especially if he didn't care about her! Fine, he'd wear the boxers just for that. There, that was one thing settled. Draco stripped down to his boxers and put on one of the silver and green head boy bathrobes that hung from a hook in his bathroom, which he took his time in putting on. It felt so nice to have the fabric roll over his shoulders, instead of just magicking the garment on. Finally finished preparing, he sat down on a couch in the common room, and looked over at the round clock. It was only eight.

Sighing dramatically, Draco looked longingly at the pile of clothing he had dumped in front of Hermione's door. It was made up of random scraps of clothing she had left in his room, as well as her toothbrush and a few cosmetics. What he wanted was the little pink book resting on top of her spare uniform. He hadn't gotten a chance to finish that damn book, The Princess Diaries, and though he would deny it if you asked him, he wanted to. Quickly glancing from side to side like a criminal in a Muggle crime comic, he stood up and tiptoed over, before snatching it up and stalking back to the sofa. Draco was secure enough in his masculinity, in his opinion, that he could get away with reading a romance novel.

He tried to block out the sound of his inner Potter sniggering.

About twenty minutes later he finished, a content smile on his face. Still stirring over the happy ending, he flipped aimlessly through the remaining pages, only to find an excerpt of some sort. Excited now, he moved to the beginning of the passage, to find a promise for a sequel. Automatically, he leapt to his feet and ran over to the door to Hermione's bedroom, but stopped with his hand on the doorknob. One single thought streaked across his mind like her annoying cat, insuring that he froze in his tracks.

_You're not welcome in there._

You see, Draco Malfoy had never been in an exclusive, mature relationship before in his life, meaning that he had never had a real breakup either. It was because of this that he did not respect Hermione's privacy and entered her room, glancing around the red and gold with a scowl. His mind had turned against her, which made it easier for him to override his puny Potter conscience and strut in without a problem. He noted with irritation that he still felt at home here, too.

Pushing aside thoughts of Hermione and her new boyfriend, Draco found her overflowing bookshelf, and to his surprise, located a whole set of books in the series. He pulled Princess in the Spotlight off the shelf and returned to the common room, reading the inside cover as he walked.

Three hours later, Draco was a few chapters from the end, and was stretched out on the couch, completely enthralled by Hermione's book. So amused by the book was he that he forgot about his guest's impending arrival. When the portrait swung open at eleven, he let out a very undignified shriek and threw the book across the room, where it landed on the stack of Hermione's things. Pansy smirked as she crawled through the wall, her eyebrows tilted in amusement, while he struggled to twist his lips into a sneer and stood up.

"Problem, Drake?" she asked with a light smile replacing her smirk. He relaxed a bit, and stuck out his tongue, feeling something click for the first time in over a week. He couldn't deny his home was with Hermione, but he'd grown up with Pansy and the other Slytherins. That was a large part of him, and it was what he was used to. And while it was also true that Pansy was a bit of a social-climbing slut, Draco had known her when she was five and had fallen off her toy broomstick. He'd let her cry on his shoulder at the end of fifth year when they hadn't known if their fathers had been captured at the Ministry of Magic. He'd grown up with her, and they knew each other better than most.

In public, they were cold to each other, but behind closed doors, they were friends. It was all about the image, but that was the curse of Slytherin. And that was exactly why Hermione could never be with him, even if she _wasn't_ a Weasley-loving tramp.

"Of course not, Pans," he said in reply, not drawling. He looked her over, relieved to find that she was wearing a bathrobe like his own, green with the black initials 'P.P.' across the lapel. Underneath she wore a faded pair of comfortable pajamas, one's that she'd had for years but never got too small. He recognized most of the little tears across the knees and back. It was less frightening to know that she hadn't dressed up for him. She turned to pull the portrait shut behind her as Draco scratched the back of his neck.

"So what exactly am I here for, Drake?" she asked softly, the seductive purr she usually used absent. He shrugged, not quite sure how to explain. Seeing his blank expression, she waved her hands dismissively and took off her robe. "Forget I asked, what you may miss about the Mudblood doesn't matter." He flinched at the bad language so casually thrown around, but didn't comment.

"I just got used to sleeping next to someone, and I don't want to feel dependent on her," he ad-libbed simply, hoping she wouldn't question further. Pansy shrugged, knowing not to push him into revealing his secrets, and laid her robe over the back of the sofa, before smiling peacefully and gesturing to his bedroom door.

"Feeling tired?"

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0MA0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

With the stealth of men behind enemy lines, Hermione and Ginny crept through the halls of Hogwarts, Harry's invisibility cloak draped across their shoulders. Hermione had discovered, to her dismay, that she had left her comfort book, Hogwarts, a History, behind, and already knew from experience that she couldn't sleep without having it on her bedside table. Ginny found this quite pathetic, but had said nothing, and agreed to tag along behind her friend to the Head Dorms.

Hermione loitered in front of the portrait, nervous, annoying the woman in it, while Ginny tapped her foot impatiently behind her. The head girl took deep breaths, her mind hovering over who could be waiting on the other side. The last time she had seen Draco, he had been cackling at her expense, and if she were to cross the threshold into what she now considered his territory, chances were that he would be the same. And he might not be alone. The thought sent waves of nausea into her stomach.

"Mione, just go so we can get your bloody book and go to sleep," Ginny whined, forcing her out of her thoughts. Reassured that at least Ginny was with her, unwillingly or not, Hermione pulled open the portrait, facing a dark and empty common room. Glancing around fearfully, she tiptoed across the carpet to her door, stepping over the pile of her belongings placed there by Draco, while Ginny laid the invisibility cloak on the coffee table. Everything was silent.

Hogwarts, a History was placed neatly on her nightstand where she had left it, so she snatched it up and hugged it tightly against her chest, taking comfort in the crinkle of its worn pages. She did not spare a glance to her empty bed and left the room quickly, wanting to be back in Gryffindor Tower as soon as possible. The door closed and locked, and she sighed in relief. But looking up, she found Ginny glaring heatedly at something stretched out across the back of the couch, with the cloak balled up in her fist. Hermione followed the redhead's stare to a green bathrobe, with the initials 'P.P.' clearly stitched into the fabric.

All hopes of salvaging her relationship with Draco instantly disappeared and suddenly she didn't want to. She wanted to wring his skinny little _neck_ for bringing some slut back to their rooms only a _night_ after he had told her it was over. The idea that she was jumping to conclusions as he had didn't even register, because the proof was overwhelming.

"Hermione?" Ginny ventured timidly, but Hermione didn't even notice her. He wanted to make her angry or jealous or whatever sick little emotion he craved for power, but Merlin knew _no one_ screwed with Hermione Jane Granger's heart. Not the war hero, the genius, the best friend of the Boy-Who-Killed! He wanted a power struggle? He'd **_GET_** a power struggle!

"I'm fine," she said calmly, though Ginny detected ripples of fury running through her words. "Act with me, Ginny."

"What?" she asked, a little confused and stunned. Hermione looked up, wearing a very Slytherin smirk. She dug her prized iPod out of her pocket, and started to enchant the speakers.

"Just go along with me." Hermione ran her finger around the click wheel, before stopping on the perfect song. The song. "Let's show that bastard what happens when you mess with Gryffindors, eh?"

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0MA0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**A/N: Well, you know what they say. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. As for the 'Act with me' line, get your messed-up minds out of the gutter. **

**Anyway, no worries! Hermione yells, Draco yells, etc. etc., but this will end happily as I keep saying! So don't cry in your reviews. Please. Although I still want to get to a thousand reviews before the end of the summer. And I'm really close, too! Just a reminder, the person who is the 900th reviewer gets a walk-on role in Magnetic Attraction! We already have two, Christine and Bee, who shall show up in the next few chapters. And the 1000th reviewer gets a main role in my newest fic My Past, His Present, Your Future! Yay! So just keep that in mind when you're staring at the review button. **

**I suppose I owe you all a teaser, even though I have written about… five sentences of chapter 17, so I apologize if it totally sucks.**

_His eyes flew open as he heard something remarkably familiar. In fact, he had been thinking so much about Hermione that at first he thought he was just imagining it. The opening sentence of a song that haunted him even in his half sleep._

**Oooo, any guesses? Five points to the house of your choice if you guess what song she plays! Not that it's hard.**

**Toodles!**

**Final Word Count: 4703**


	17. Not Meant To Be

**A/N: This is my final desperate attempt to get to a thousand reviews before the summer ends. A miniature chapter, a little faster update than normal, and full of action. So please, please give me bragging rights. I know there are over 345 of you reading, since that's the number shown on my stats page, and I'm on author alert for the rest of you, so please review. Please, I'm begging you. And there's that fancy prize to think of too! Come on!**

**Congrats to my 900th reviewer, Rose, who joins Bee in Ravenclaw. I was going to fit Christine in this chapter, but I had to cut it in order to update so fast. When the Quidditch match rolls around, she'll be in there. Anyway, than you all who have been reviewing, and good luck to the lucky winner of the main role in MPHPYF. (That title is way too long.)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and never will. Does that honestly surprise you?**

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**Chapter 17: Not Meant To Be**

Draco was not comfortable in the slightest. Pansy had her back against his front, and her head was leaning against his shoulder, but although this was the way he and Hermione had slept, he couldn't nod off. She wasn't Hermione, meaning she wasn't good enough. He was loath to admit it, but this wasn't working. The only thing keeping him from asking Pansy to leave was the fact that she was already asleep. He knew better than to wake her up.

He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing to Merlin that he would fall asleep. The longer he was faced with the truth that Pansy wasn't good enough, the harder it was to hate Hermione. And he did, hate Hermione that was. He hated that he was still thinking of her, that she was so irreplaceable. More than anything, he wanted to rewind the past two weeks, to go back to that uncomplicated state where only purebloods mattered and she was just Mudblood Granger, below him. He wished he could be so mindless again. Ignorance was bliss, as they said.

But even ignorance was out of the question now. There was another thing he wanted, more than to return to his state of naiveté. He just wished he could have come back to the Head Dorms half an hour earlier, having never known Hermione still had feelings for Weasley. He wanted above all to be with her now, his arms wrapped around her torso as she drifted off into an untroubled sleep. Was that too much to ask?

_Yes_, he thought sadly, _it was too much to ask_. There was too much against them. Everything was against them. And there hadn't been any 'them' in the first place. He just hadn't seen it until the day the attraction had broken. All there had been was her need for attention and a warm body, and his emotional instability caused by his mother's death.

_But what about the attraction?_ His mind ventured softly, the thorn in his side. Draco closed his eyes, shifting so that his forehead rested against Pansy's shoulder. _Whatever happened to 'false love won't fool magic'_?

_It was a glitch, something wrong with the charms_, he reminded himself, drawing up the memory of Hermione's shocked face, illuminated by purple light from the snap of the magic. The two thoughts conflicted, and he grunted quietly in annoyance. _Well, maybe not, but she doesn't love me now, and that's what matters_.

His other half disagreed, but did not push the subject further. There was no need to respond anyway, for Draco had opened a floodgate of remembrance involving the girl he had given up on. At first it was just the moments from the past two weeks, Hermione gazing up at him in fear as he yelled at her in the infirmary, Hermione, terrified, staring up at him with wide eyes as he insulted her after Narcissa's funeral, Hermione, scared, when she saw him after waking up on the previous Saturday morning. Then more came, from sixth year as she glared daggers at him when they met briefly outside the Room of Requirement, only an hour before Dumbledore's death. In fifth year, when he had held her and some of the DA members prisoner in Umbridge's office. Then fourth year, when he had attempted to curse Potter and Imposter-Moody had turned him into a ferret, she had been there. She had disapproved of Moody's method, but had laughed all the same. Third year, when she had been absolutely furious with him after the hippogriff incident. Second year, the look of absolute hurt and mixed hatred in her eyes because of his very first 'Mudblood' comment. First year, when they were all still young and hardly knew each other, but he had scoffed at her Muggle clothing and thrust his nose up in the air in response to her curious questions. All he could recount was her fear, her loathing, or her disappointment in him.

_It wasn't meant to be,_ a more familiar voice purred, one that had been with him for years. It trampled his younger Potter conscience easily, sinking its talons into his mind to remind him of who he was. Lucius' never-ending presence. _It was a nice fantasy, but it will always remain just that, a dream. Think of who she _is_, son, and who _we_ are. A Mudblood and a pureblood prince would never last. Leave her with Weasley, where she belongs. We must lead people like them, and look in control and powerful at all times. You remember that, Draco._

He sighed, unable to accept it. He would give himself this one night, he decided, this single night to indulge in what had been. There had been smiles, too, through the years; little brief smiles shared during class, before the war had started. Awkward moments when they bumped into each other, alone, in the halls or in the library. And these past few weeks, oh it had been wonderful, too. The kisses, the companionship, the understanding. She had always known what he needed and how to help him. That day on the lake… he couldn't even say how picturesque it had been. How amazing she had looked afterwards, stunned and breathless, with her face glistening and hair slick and straight, all thanks to the rain. He sighed.

His eyes flew open as he heard something remarkably familiar. In fact, he had been thinking so much about Hermione that at first he thought he was just imagining it. The opening sentence of a song that haunted him even in his half sleep.

_He said I'm gonna buy this place and burn it down,_

_I'm gonna put it six feet underground._

Pansy stirred but thankfully didn't wake up. He willed the music away, horrified by the realization that it was not, in fact, coming from inside his head. That could only mean one thing, Hermione was back. This was a mixed blessing. He really didn't want to have to face her, especially now that he had figured out that she couldn't be replaced. Normally he wouldn't have to face her until morning anyway, but judging by the music she was blasting, she was looking for a confrontation.

_He said I'm gonna buy this place and watch it fall,_

_Stand here beside me, baby, in the crumbling walls._

Thanking fate that Pansy was a heavy sleeper, he gently rolled her back onto her side of the bed, before reluctantly easing out from under the covers. It didn't even occur to him that Hermione wouldn't exactly be pleased by the fact that he was in his underwear, and he groggily pulled a plain black robe off his desk. Draco threw it around his shoulders without bothering to close it, and quietly opened the door of his bedroom.

_Oh I'm gonna buy this place and start a fire._

_Stand here until I fill all your heart's desires._

_Because I'm gonna buy this place and see it burn,_

_And do back all the things it did to you in return._

Hermione was sitting down, looking extremely pleased as she gestured with both hands. His heart skipped a beat as he saw her, even though he had been expecting to see her. She was wearing simple pajamas with a large bathrobe she must have borrowed from Potter or Weasley. This mere thought made him burn with jealousy, but the feeling quickly dissipated. Across from her was Ginny Weasley, looking confused and awkward as she stood beside an armchair. Clearing his throat, he stepped out of his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Both the girls looked up, Weasley seeming sheepish and annoyed, while Hermione came off as simply surprised and pleasant. In her lap was the cursed iPod and headphones, vibrating from the force of the song. Draco scowled, walking forward to lean against the opposite end of the sofa Hermione was reclining on.

"May I ask why you're waking up the entire castle with your mediocre Muggle music, Granger?" he forced himself to snarl, tired enough to use immature alliteration. And that damned song was forcing him to relive moments that made it very hard to hate her.

_He said, 'Oh I'm gonna buy a gun and start a war,_

_If you can tell me something worth fighting for._

_Oh I'm gonna buy this place, that's what I said._

_Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head.'_

"We're throwing around ideas for the Yule Ball, it's not very far away, after all," she answered happily, giving him the unwelcome impression that she was absolutely unbothered by their argument the previous night. Startled, he shifted anxiously, before snapping,

"What, at this hour?" She looked at him, her expression clearly saying, 'Do you have a problem with that?' Weasley coughed, sinking down into the armchair by the fire, no doubt preparing for the showdown that was sure to follow. Draco looked down his nose at her. She blinked in return, before placidly asking, her voice posing no direct threat,

"Sorry, did we wake up your date?" His face flushed as he realized Pansy had left her robe on the sofa. The one she was sitting on, to be exact. Bugger.

_And honey,_

_All the movements you're starting to make._

_See me crumble and fall on my face,_

_And I know the mistakes that I've made,_

_See it all disappear without a trace._

"Pansy just needed a place to stay the night-," he adlibbed feebly, failing miserably at his attempt to cover his tracks. Hermione nodded as if she were a friend listening to his life story, that is completely interested.

"Yeah, uh, totally. Don't worry, you no longer need to explain your love life to me, Malfoy," she said calmly. He winced, but she continued. "After all, it never _really_ had anything to do with me, did it? It was all just an act." Her words stung, more so than any loss against Potter in Quidditch. Her brisk, quick evaluation and judgement of their brief relationship crushed his heart completely. But then again, what had he been expecting?

Some regret on her part would have been nice.

"Regardless, would you turn that shit down?"

_And they call as they beckon you on,_

_They say start as you need to go on,_

_Start as you need to go on._

"No, I don't think I can do that," she drawled, smirking. "We're selecting a soundtrack, and since that classifies as work, and I've silenced the entire tower, the only person being bothered is you." She tapped her finger against her chin thoughtfully, and added as a second thought, "And Pansy, of course." He sneered, irked by her brazen attitude. How dare she dismiss him so easily? He was a Malfoy, pureblooded and respected inside the wizarding community!

"Granger," he hissed, his tone deadly. She shrunk away from him against the armrest. "Either you turn that off, or I'll do it for you." Weasley's eyes widened as Hermione's did the opposite. It occurred to him that the worst thing he could have done was to pick a fight with her in front of her friend, but it was too late now. Straightening his posture, he stood up taller, folding his arms across his chest.

"What are you going to do, Malfoy, throw The Princess Diaries at me?" she challenged, unbothered. His jaw dropped. How did that girl somehow know everything?

_He said I'm gonna buy this place and see it go,_

_Stand here baby, watch the orange glow._

"I'm not afraid of a know-it-all Mudblood," he responded. Weasley gasped. Hermione gritted her teeth. He'd finally struck a nerve. Then, out of nowhere, she growled and grabbed a book off the floor from beside her feet. Quick as a cat, she flung it at his head, narrowly missing her target. Stunned, he looked behind him to see that her projectile had been her most prized possession. Hogwarts: A History lay open upside down, its pages folded against the carpet. Draco looked back up to see her completely furious.

"Isn't that a creative insult. Really stung, you totally called my bluff, Malfoy," she growled sarcastically, her expression returning to that of bland relaxation. Once again, she had eluded him.

_Some'll laugh and some just sit and cry,_

_But you just sit down there and you wonder why._

"I think it stung more than you want to admit, Granger," was his pathetic retort. But it was sadly true. Anyway, he needed sleep, and arguing with this girl would not help him. "Just turn it down, please. Since I asked nicely." She rolled her eyes at his bitter tone, but finally did as she was told. However, instead of thanking her, he merely left the room, snatching Pansy's robe back in the process.

_So I'm gonna buy a gun and start a war,_

_If you can tell me something worth fighting for,_

_And I'm gonna buy this place, that's what I said._

_Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head._

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**A/N: Yes, I know, tiny. But at least I updated faster. Woo hoo! 100 reviews for the last chapter. Sorry, no teaser, but the Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch match is coming, as well as Yule Ball planning. **

**Anyway, must dash. Going sailing!**

**Word Count: 2414**


	18. At An Impasse

**A/N: Alright, here's the next chapter. Sorry for the inconveniences and everything, guys. Until the site lets me back on, I'm going to be slower updating, just because it's really difficult to work the site now. Plus I'm in High School now, so home work is insane. And there were technical difficulties with the 18th chapter too, sorry. Anyway…**

**Well, I added Christine, tada. One off the list. **

**Summary:** _Due to a mistake in Charms, Hermione and Draco are magnetically attracted to each other. Chaos ensues. As well as a romance. And a cheating Ronald. It gets complicated._

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0MA0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**Chapter 18: At An Impasse**

From that day onwards, life continued for Draco and Hermione as it had before the attraction. Hermione resumed her life as the unofficial keeper of the library, skipping meals and spending more times alone in Gryffindor Tower. She wasn't exactly happy, but she did nothing to try and alter her path, strangely comforted by the pattern she fell into. Planning for the Yule Ball quickly became the purpose of her life, and she spent hours conferencing with the other prefects about dates, clothing requirements, and fake snow. Most meals, when she wasn't lurking in the library, she sat with the sixth year Gryffindor prefect, Christine McKay, pouring over the large binder she had filled with sketches and brochures. The Yule Ball would be her project. It kept her busy.

Because Hermione had staked her claim on the Yule Ball, Draco immersed himself in Quidditch, fulfilling his role as Quidditch captain. With his obsessive leadership, the Slytherin team shaped up, almost matching the perfectly-coordinated Gryffindor House team. He constantly could be found drawing up stragedy. However, he still avoided the cluttered Slytherin common room, and forced himself never to look up when Hermione passed through his makeshift office in their shared common room. That became the standard for the pair, ignoring each other. They had a silent agreement to just move on.

Not that that was easy for either of them. Although Draco didn't invite Pansy back to his bedroom, he still had trouble falling asleep unaided, and eventually had to turn to Dreamless Sleep potion. Hermione fell asleep fairly easily, but continued to dream of vague shadows who would whisper gentle nothings into her ear, before pulling away and leaving her alone on top of the Astronomy Tower, standing on the railing, poised to jump. Then she would wake up, her heart pounding, in a dark mood.

The night before the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Quidditch match, Hermione was hanging out with Christine, who was quickly becoming a good friend, while Harry, Ron, and Ginny were all having a last-minute practice. She was tired, as it was Friday, and was greatly relieved that for two weeks, she hadn't taken part in any interaction with Draco. She had given Christine a basic rundown of the magnetic attraction, excluding their brief romance and the Cedric fiasco, and found that the girl was like a more serious version of Ginny, only much less obsessed with Harry. Christine also had an interest in reading, something Hermione really appreciated in a friend. The half-blood had just admitted to have read _Hogwarts: A History_ twelve times, when Hermione decided that the sixth year was a true friend.

"Alright, I know it's obsessive to read a nonfiction book more than once, but I enjoy it each time," Christine argued unnecessarily, under the impression that the Head Girl would disapprove of her favorite book. Instead, she only smiled, feeling relaxed for the first time since the attraction broke.

"No, I totally agree," she interrupted. Christine looked stunned that someone understood her. "Every time you read it you learn something you didn't notice before. I've got you beat though, I've read it eighteen times." Christine gasped, sitting up on the sofa she had previously been lying down on. Hermione grinned smugly, before looking back down at the to do list open in her lap.

"I can't believe I've just admitted my deepest, darkest secret, only to find you topped it! Gah!" Put out, she laid back down, closing her yellowish-green eyes. She continued, her voice showing her minor irritation, "Ok then, what's your secret?"

This question was innocent, and Hermione knew that the sixth year wasn't in any way prying, but at the same time, her easygoing expression faded. She had two such secrets, one that only Draco, Harry, Ron, and Ginny knew, and one that only Draco himself knew. The first was that she loved Draco, and the second that she had loved Cedric. The teenager placed her planning binder on top of the coffee table, before curling up in her armchair, nervous. It was about time that she told someone else the truth about Cedric. Perhaps that was why she still trusted Draco so much, he was the person one who knew and he hadn't told anyone. If there were someone else, then he wouldn't be so special in her eyes.

"Promise you won't tell anyone?" she started timidly, her face scrunched up and pointed. Surprised by the serious tone suddenly in her friend's voice, Christine reopened her eyes and shifted to face her, before nodding twice. "Only one other person knows this, so not even a word to _Harry_, okay?"

"Sure, sure, Hermione. Go ahead." Hermione looked down into her lap, fidgeting with the hem of her t-shirt. Now or never. _Just do it. Just tell her_.

"When I was in fourth year," she said slowly, "I had this friendship with a guy from another house." It was easier to start from the beginning and go slowly. Her voice got stronger with every sentence. "He really meant a lot to me, and I slowly fell in love with him."

"What happened?" Christine asked, whispering. It was comforting how she hadn't just immediately asked who the boy was. It was too soon.

"Well, he trusted me, and confided in me all of his fears and worries. I was really close to him. But he had a girlfriend and was older, so I didn't act on how I felt about him." The sixth-year frowned, but didn't comment. "Until one day, when I kissed him."

"And then what happened?" Christine sat back up, completely enthralled with her friend's story.

"He smiled and ran off." She chuckled, before asking,

"No, silly, what happened to the relationship?"

Hermione scowled down at the floor, holding her breath. When she ran out of air, she decided honesty was the best policy and said in a rush of words, "He died before it could progress any further."

Christine fixed her with a blank stare, resting her chin on her palm, before comprehension worked across her face. Disbelievingly almost, she drawled hesitantly in monotone, "Please tell me you're not talking about Cedric Diggory." Hermione nodded slowly. "Oh, Merlin, Hermione, you didn't tell anyone?" She shook her head, biting her lip. "I'm so sorry, that must have been so hard to deal with on your own."

"Thanks." They sat in silence for a few moments, while Hermione regained her composure and Christine stewed over this new information.

Suddenly, she asked, "Who was the other person you told?"

Hermione started before answering, "Malfoy."

The other girl answered. "I'm surprised he hasn't told anyone yet." Her words had a negative edge to them, and the other girl fought against the need to correct her.

"If he cares about you, then he won't betray your trust, even now," she finally said quietly. Hermione's head snapped up in shock, and she was about to snarl a response to prove the opposite, but froze when she heard a familiar voice say the password on the other side of the portrait. They both watched it open, and the Head Girl gulped as a depressed Draco clambered in. He didn't notice them until he had walked about five steps into the room. Normally he would have kept walking, but his eyes met Hermione's and it would have been rude to simply walk away without acknowledge her presence. After an awkward pause, he gave her a gruff nod and continued on his way to his bedroom door.

"Hey, Malfoy!" called out Christine, earning herself a heavy glare from Hermione. He turned around slowly, dreading this moment. He really didn't want to talk to them right now, or act out a fight he didn't really mean.

"What, McKay?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe. Hermione was looking at her binder again, but Christine had fixed him with a curious look. It made him nervous. The younger Gryffindor twisted a lock of her dark auburn hair around her finger absentmindedly, still lying down.

"We need you to sign a few contracts for the Yule Ball on Monday at the prefect's meeting. You know, decoration contracts, random insurance things," she said calmly. He nodded, before sending a faked sneer at the back of Hermione's head and escaping finally into his bedroom. The red head sighed. "He's not very talkative lately, is he?" she added to herself.

"Thanks for that," Hermione said snidely, shrinking back into the cushions.

Christine winced. _Ginny was right_, she thought. _Getting them back together will be harder then we thought_.

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0MA0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

Eventually Draco found himself out on the Quidditch pitch, wearing his flashy but worn emerald robes and leather riding pants. He hovered hundreds of feet up in the air, a tiny green speck in the clouds to anyone filing into the stands below, and those who were lucky enough to have Omnioculars could see he was completely still, looking directly in front of him. In truth, he wasn't looking at anything at all, and was simply clearing his mind before the big Slytherin/Gryffindor match only minutes away. Normally the young man had little trouble blocking out thoughts of his imprisoned father and insane mother, and seeing as since the last time he had played, they both had _died_, an ignorant person would believe it easier for him to focus now.

And yet, as glazed as his grayish-blue eyes had become, and as dead as his face appeared, he was far from focused. In fact, his mind was hundreds of feet below him, across the pitch, and up a flight of narrowed stairs, sitting next to a young woman. That was where it would stay for the rest of the game.

Madame Hooch blew her whistle, the sharp trill startling Draco, causing him to drop several feet before regaining control and descending slowly, pulling his broom in between the referee and Goyle.

In front of him, Potter smirked and mouthed smugly, 'You're going down.'

The blond rolled his eyes and responded, 'Doubtful.' He quickly looked away, his feet pressed against solid ground, as Hooch gave the normal lecture about sportsmanship and having a clean match. He could have recited it verbatim by now, and his eyes sought out Hermione's—unconsciously, of course. She wasn't looking at him, and was again sitting with that McKay girl, and a perky-looking Neville Longbottom. He scoffed quietly, and forced himself to look away.

Potter noticed his glance toward the Gryffindor stand, and quickly sent an irritated look at the two youngest Weasleys, causing them to narrow their eyes and tighten their holds on their broom handles.

"Please try not to break any noses this game, and please keep things fair. First match of the season, so set a good example for the other two teams," she finished finally, speaking for the benefit of the two captains. "Alright then." Draco flexed his fingers in his gloves.

The whistle blew, and the game began.

"AND THEY'RE OFF!" Luna Lovegood bellowed from her seat in the staff box, an annoyed Professor McGonagall sitting beside her. Hermione snapped to attention, her eyes following the ascending blur that was her ex-boyfriend, while she spun dials on her Omnioculars, setting the record function. She tuned out the innocent banter between Neville and Christine, doing the same to Luna's inept commentary as she focused in on his face, determined and somehow already sweaty. He leveled out about a hundred feet from the ground, directly in the middle of the game, moving only to avoid the spare bludger sent in his direction. Straight off the bat Slytherin scored, causing Ron to snarl and narrow his eyes.

"Their team's gotten a lot better," Neville told Christine.

The girl merely shrugged and responded, "Malfoy's a good captain, I suppose."

Hermione remained silent as the others booed the opposing team. Her voice would probably sound forced anyway. She paid no attention to the rest of the game at all, watching him while she had the chance, while she couldn't be caught staring. The wind did wonders for his hair, causing it to flutter about lightly in the most attractive way. She moaned softly as he turned around to watch the Quaffle streak down the field, his leather trousers tightening around his muscular thighs. In fact, even the thin line of sweat on his forehead seemed suddenly drop-dead sexy in his eyes. Unwanted, she found the urge to lick it off. Slytherin scored again and she didn't even notice, fascinated by his victorious grin.

"Slytherin's up twenty points, thanks to that strange maneuver by one of those bulky fifth years. Not sure what his name is, they all seem alike," Luna announced, before humming softly to herself. Ron swore and made a random hand gesture to Harry, who apparently understood what he meant and flew over to hover next to one of his Beaters. He quickly muttered something before resuming his scanning of the field. The younger Gryff sped off, away from the tussle near the Gryffindor goal posts that had already formed.

"Oh, Merlin, what is Kirke doing?" asked Lavender behind the distracted girl. Hermione looked down to follow the mousy boy as he swung his bat at the passing Bludger, sending it whizzing off in Draco's direction. The Seeker quickly dropped lower, sending the small ball over his head, the faint wind from its speed making his hair fly back. Her jaw dropped as it fell back into place slowly, hair by hair, and he licked his lips with that adorable pink tongue, before biting down on them in concentration.

"And Malfoy seems to have spotted the Snitch, look at him go!" Luna exclaimed, confusing the lusting girl. It took her a few seconds to realize that she had made the same mistake as Harry had three years ago at the Quidditch cup. She had been ogling Draco Malfoy on the slow motion setting. Blushing furiously, she quickly switched back one of the switches, to see no one was there anymore. All around her people were pointing and yelling, and Hermione followed their screams and gestures to the green bullet zooming towards the ground, his face pulled taught in concentration. Harry was already on his tail, equally as focused, but she hardly noticed him. There seemed to be something wrong with Draco, he looked almost afraid and self-conscious. She could see why, he was quickly approaching the ground. Thirty feet, twenty feet, fifteen feet. She stood up, horrified that he would crash. Ten feet, five feet, and he pulled his broom upwards, slowing down as he regained height.

She smirked in unison as she realized what he'd done. A very cleverly practiced Wronskei Feight.

"Oh, Harry doesn't appear to be doing so well, look at that bump on his forehead, ouch," Luna consoled, and Hermione swiveled to see Harry dismounting his broom and wobbling unsteadily over to the sideline, completely furious that he had been tricked. Having missed the action, she turned to Christine and asked what had happened.

"Harry only barely pulled up and lost his balance. He fell off and landed at a funny angle," she whispered, while everyone held their breath. In the pause, she looked back up to Draco to find him once again circling the pitch like a hawk. Part of her knew that she should have been absolutely furious with him for hurting her friend, but she couldn't lie. She was proud of him, as much as she hated him.

And she _did_ hate him. Stupid, bloody ferret.

Amid tumultuous applause, Harry strutted back out across the field, smiling disparagingly with his broom by his side. With another harsh blow of the whistle, he took off, seemingly fine. Hermione smiled too, relieved, though still happy for Draco.

The rest of the game seemed kind of blurred, and all she could remember afterwards was him, _only_ him. It was ironic in a way, how she couldn't even support her best friend as he flew because the boy who she hated was so bloody distracting! Merlin, she hated him, _hated him_ for this! It was so infuriating, so… so… him! How could he have the nerve to just storm in and change everything, and just leave her?

And yet she couldn't manage to look away.

Then it was suddenly over, and all around her people were stomping their feet and screaming, waving red and gold banners. Hermione was stunned, taken completely by surprise when Luna bellowed the final score, 200 to 110, Gryffindor had won. Harry was laughing, racing after Ginny in victory laps. Ron was blowing kisses to the stands. But Draco was up high again. He was almost brushing the clouds, it appeared, so far away. Hermione blinked, before standing up and yelling congratulations to Ron as he sped by. Frustrated, she hung her Omnioculars around her neck to keep them from falling, her face stinging in the wind.

"Jump on, Mione!" Ron yelled, pulling his broom up beside her. He was grinning, his hair windswept and messy, his hand extended to her. He'd done this before, and she'd never said yes, reminded of Cedric. And yet she was different now, no longer afraid of the shadows, so much more alive, and though she knew this was a very bad idea, she took it.

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0MA0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

He'd _lost_. After all of that effort… Potter'd gotten the snitch. It was just _over_, the Gryffindor's were cheering, the Slytherin's hissing, with Potter waving the bloody snitch around. He pulled his broom handle upwards, fuming. How could he have bloody _lost_!?!

A snide voice in his mind blamed Hermione. He wasn't sure why it was her fault, but god damn it, it was. She'd been distracting him, nibbling on her lower lip as she stared at him, her eyes making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as if he'd been shocked. How could you not be distracted by that? Anybody would be. _That_ was why he'd lost.

He was an _awesome_ Quidditch player. He'd tricked scarhead into thinking he'd seen the snitch, hadn't he? He'd led his team into scoring constantly. He hadn't let himself look at Hermione _once_ during the game play. He was the _best_, he really was. It was all _her_ bloody fault. Not his. Of course not, how could he even think that?

Unable to stop himself, he leveled out, about three hundred feet from the pitch. It was chilly, damp at that altitude, and he knew he would catch a cold if he went any higher. He sought out Hermione's brown head automatically -so he could glare at her, he reasoned- only to find himself unable to locate it in the quivering mass that was the Gryffindor stand. Instead, it was next to an unmistakable red Weasley mop, doing victory laps around the field. Draco frowned, drifting lower. She _hated_ to fly. What was she playing at? He continued to descend unintentionally, slowly as people began to leave the stand, and march back to the castle, though the Gryffindor team remained. Soon, he was only a hundred feet above Weasley and the Head Girl watching, confused, as Hermione laughed at every quick dip the flyer took.

This brought a raw feeling to the back of Draco's throat. For once she seemed happy, hot tired or lonely or scared. _Of course she's happy_, his inner jerk sneered, She's got _Weasel all to herself. Just like she always wanted_. But at the same time, that didn't ring true. Even from his distance, he could see the wide, innocent grin breaking out across her face, and he couldn't help but wonder,

Was she ever that happy with me? Draco sighed and turned his back on the couple, beginning to pick up speed as he grew closer to the ground. However, he had hardly made it ten feet before the girlish squeals of his ex turned into a petrified shriek.

It seemed like time turned to slow motion as he quickly redirected his broom to face them; he saw Weasley, just as shocked as him, puling his broom to a halt, the space behind him completely empty. Hermione was below him already, some ten feet above Draco and about halfway across the field. She seemed stunned, her arms spread out at her sides, her legs slightly bent at the knee, with her stupid Gryffindor scarf flapping behind her, an ironic picture. Potter and his girlfriend were already on the ground, looking up, and the few people left watching were all wide-eyed and terrified. Weasel wouldn't be able to make it, he would have to gain speed and was too slow. No one else could save her.

He knew what he had to do.

Draco had never believed his broomstick to be so slow. After all, it was the fastest money could by, the Firebolt Mark II, with friction-proof bristles and rubber grips on the top, and yet somehow it seemed to move at a snail's place, surely slower than a moth. Draco urged it forward, snarling coarse words in English, French, and Latin as Hermione continued to spiral elegantly downwards, screaming still. Weasley was just starting to descend, Potter foolishly running underneath them as if he thought he could catch her, and the Weaselette was bending over to pull her wand out from under her shin guard, but Draco would get there first. Finally, he was under her, slightly to the left, and he grabbed her wrist about thirty feet before she could have a discussion with the ground about its texture.

Several things seemed to happen at once. First, she let out a painful cry of shock, with a sharp CRACK heard over her scream. Second, his broom dropped alarmingly as it struggled to adjust to the sudden addition of carrying weight, and third, a sense of relief overpowered the blond as he realized what he had just managed to do. He had _saved_ her. _Again_.

Slowly, with a small amount of difficulty, he managed to pull her upwards and into his lap, arranging her legs to sit sidesaddle as he leant her against his chest, with one arm around her waist, supporting her. She was crying, as expected, and as he regained his balance, he looked her over as best as he could in their position. She had moved her head to rest on his shoulder, her eyes closed, and was clutching her arm awkwardly to her breast. He quickly noted the backwards angle at which her arm seemed bent, and diagnosed her with a broken arm, before scowling and tugging her tighter.

Without a glance to the concerned friends below, he sighed and headed off in the direction of the hospital wing.

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0MA0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**A/N: Yeah, so this is kind of an in between chapter, but next chapter Draco gets his act together somewhat. Even though he'll always be somewhat of a jerk. Anyway… I've only written about a page and a half of the next chapter, but I think it'll be good. We're getting near the end now, only a few more chapters.**

**Woo hoo, mega reviews. This kicks serious ass. And I am sorry about the lack of chapters, once again, not my fault. **

**Teaser?**

"_She waited for you, Mr. Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey continued, sitting down on the edge of the bed across from him, "I don't think I've ever seen this girl so upset as when you were healing, in all the years I've cared for her."_

**Haha, someone's meddling. **

**Review!**

**Final Word Count: 4025**


	19. These Things That Never Change

**A/N: Ok, I'm not going to go through the same rant about why my chapters are coming later, so let me just say this. High school + play rehearsals + multiple seductions + writing of an actual book late updates. Comprende?**

**Moving right along, this fic is starting to get a bit off track but I'm trucking along with it. I'll probably finish it in a few months, judging by how long the updates are all taking, so no worries. **

**Oh, and guess what's nominated for a Dramione Award? THIS! I'm so excited, this is what I've hoped for since I started to write fan fiction about a year ago. So go and vote for this under Delicious Ideas! You can vote here: ( http // community . livejournal . com / dramione awards / )**

**Shall I just start?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, or anything else you may recognize. Sorry.**

**So last time we saw Draco and Hermione, he had flown off with Hermione in his lap, with a broken arm. **

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0MA0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

**Chapter 19: These Things That Never Change**

Draco regretted involving himself in Hermione's business almost immediately, as after he laid Hermione down on a bed in the infirmary, Madame Pomfrey pushed him down into a chair by the Gryffindor's side. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but nonetheless sat down, his stare still sweeping over the prostrate girl as Madame Pomfrey tended to her arm. At some point Hermione had passed out against his shoulder on the flight over, and he hadn't bothered to ennervate her, appreciating this rare chance to hold her so intimately without facing any consequences.

"I should go, Madame, I doubt Miss Granger would want me here when you woke her," he said calmly, his voice dull. She shook her head, smoothing a cold compress over Hermione's forehead, before glancing up briefly at the blond. He had one leg slung over the arm of the wooden chair, his elbow resting on the other. Draco was still in his sparkly green Quidditch robes, leather protective pads and all, and yet no longer appeared as relaxed and arrogant in them as he once had. She tutted under her breath, setting the cloth on the bedside table before smoothing down the sheets around Hermione's legs. The woman looked back up at the Head Boy from under her eyelashes, and said quietly,

"She waited for _you_, Mr. Malfoy." Feeling guilty, he shifted and looked back down at Hermione's tranquil face. She was still so beautiful. The mediwitch continued anyway, slowly sitting down on the edge of the bed across from him. "I don't think I've ever seen that girl so upset as when you were healing, in all the years I've cared for her health." He didn't want to listen, partly because this was true and partly because of what he had down when he had awoken to find her by his side. "I think she would have taken it hard if you hadn't recovered." She shook her head, standing back up. "Let her rest, Mr. Malfoy, but don't leave until she wakes. You owe her that much." He stared blandly at her as she walked away, disappearing into her office.

He had to say that leaving did seem a bit rude. After all, she had nearly died, and waking up alone did seem a bit harsh. So Draco stayed and watched her breathe in and out serenely, unaware of his presence. It was difficult for him to do so, to be so close to the girl he tried so hard to hate when he could see no reason to. She wasn't yelling at him now, scowling at him as if he were the most awful thing in existence. Nor was she cheating on him, perched next to Weasley on the edge of her bed. How often had he gone over that moment in his head these past few weeks, trying not to believe Hermione's pleading words? _'It's not what you think!'_ Could he be wrong? But what could he do if he _had_ been wrong? Apologize? When? Now! Could he? Why not?

'_No,'_ he protested. _'She hates you now anyway, what good would it do?' _ He recalled her flinging her favorite book at his head, absolutely furious with him. Apologizing would do little.

The object of his affection stirred, waking up before his eyes. He looked across the infirmary to Mme. P's office door to find it closed. This was his chance to leave, to escape, to let things return to what they once had been. If he didn't go, he would no longer be able to hate her. It was, amazingly enough, as simple as that. And although he didn't really want to stay, he didn't move an inch as she stretched and opened her eyes. Silver and blue met brown, and silence followed. Draco watched as she rolled her neck, before pulling herself up into a sitting position and examining her previously broken arm. Satisfied that all bones were safely in place, she clasped her hands in her lap, staring directly forward. He knew he should speak, but he had nothing to say, and simply looked on as the Head Girl decided what to do. Soon, she couldn't take the silence, or perhaps her righteous Gryffindor side took over and she had to acknowledge her previous brush with death.

"Thank you for saving me," Hermione said quietly, her voice soft and vulnerable. "Again." They were both aware that she was vulnerable, not in a position to hex him or throw anything, and also that his catching her had put the ball back in his court. She had no right to be mad at him whatsoever.

Draco blinked, still unmoving.

"I couldn't just let you die, Granger, your boyfriend isn't much of a speed demon," he said in an equally unruffled voice, with a little dig behind the insult. She sighed, looking down at her fingers.

There was yet another pause before she scolded almost under her breath,

"We both know that Ron Weasley is not my boyfriend. He may have quite a few girlfriends but I am not one of them." This pulled a reluctant laugh from Draco, and a small smile pulled at the corner of her lips. She looked up at him, unshed tears in her eyes. That silenced him again. To herself she wondered aloud, "Why is it that I can't stay mad at you?" Her words were so weighted and so unexpected that he could only frown, at a loss of how to respond. Again, she looked away.

Draco shifted, running his hand through his hair in exasperation. They couldn't stop now, the whole situation had changed. Before he could process what he was saying, he stammered out quickly,

"I didn't sleep with Pansy." Hermione nodded, unable to respond. Silence again. He continued, unwilling to let their flimsy conversation snap. "I paid her to just sleep next to me so I didn't feel so alone."

"I kissed Ron to prove that I didn't have feelings for him and to be sure that I loved you," she admitted, turning to sit on her knees to face him. He leant forward, searching her face for honesty. There was no trace of a single lie, and she stared back.

"It didn't work, I still couldn't sleep," he continued.

"And I still ended up with the same answer," she added.

"I couldn't replace you."

"I _loved_ you."

It was the first time either one of them had said it, actually been able to voice their love aloud. They had known it on some level, with the attraction breaking, but it had gotten lost in all of the drama that had followed. Draco could tell that she wasn't lying either, her eyes round and glistening, her lips still parted from her final word. _Love_, what he had always wanted, especially from her. The past tense stung.

'_She's lying.'_

'_No she's not.'_

"Granger," he said, scared.

She shook her head.

"We can't, Malfoy." He blinked as she looked away again, towards the door. "Not now, everything's different. It's back to real life now, there's no attraction to allow it anymore." He didn't argue, it was true. He was a Malfoy after all, while she was a Muggleborn. She was Potter's best friend, out of bounds. It would be too hard.

He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "I'm sorry."

"I should go," he said, standing up. He allowed himself one final look at Hermione, mournful but realistic. Then he turned to leave.

He was almost out the door before she called back to him.

"Wait!" He slowly turned. Hermione forced a smile and asked hesitantly, "Friends?"

Draco bit his lip uncharacteristically, but agreed,

"Friends."

The door closed behind him with a click of finality. She wondered what she had done now. Leaning her back against the headboard, she noticed her omnioculars resting on her bedside table, and picked them up. Looking through the eyepieces, she pushed replay. Draco flying high above the pitch, his hair blowing behind him as he licked his lips, met her sight. She watched the loop before rewinding and watching him again.

The girl began to cry as she realized that once again, she had lied to Draco. She hadn't ever stopped loving him.

_She still did._

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0MA0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

By the time November ended, their promise of friendship could be best defined as redundant. While it was true that no words of ill feeling had passed between the two heads, instead of spending time together and getting over the awkward stage of breaking up, they began to obsessively avoid each other, causing the tension to only grow. They both tried not to spend much time in the Head dorms, with Draco going to sleep late and Hermione retiring to her bedroom early or remaining in Gryffindor Tower. During the prefect meetings she had scheduled to plan the Yule Ball, they sat side by side, their chairs as far apart as they could manage. Draco turned around in the hallway if he saw Hermione passing between classes with Harry and Ron, and when they stumbled across each other alone, he had taken to nodding stiffly in her direction, avoiding eye contact, before bolting away.

Slowly people began to notice their odd behavior, and soon prefect meetings were a source of interest of not only Ginny and Christine McKay, but also several girls from the older year. Included were two Ravenclaws, Christine's friend Bee, a fellow half-blood, and a pureblood named Rose. Rose was actually a childhood friend of Blaise Zabini's, and had known Draco for years, but could offer no explanation for his actions, other than jumping to conclusions. She and Bee both had their own theories about what had passed between him and Hermione during the weeks of the attraction. Needless to say, they weren't all that far from the truth.

Hermione was going over the decorations again in the first week of December, appearing driven and focused to the untrained eye, while inside she was on absolute edge. She was very aware of every move the teenager next to her made, resisting the urge to flinch every time his elbow grew closer to hers on the tabletop. Juvenile, possibly, but she could no longer deny that the blond completely unnerved her, and new as she was to adult crushes and especially love, she didn't quite know how to handle it. She had found that talking to Christine had helped greatly in removing some of her stress, but something was still noticeably missing.

"So I believe that is all for this week's meeting, unless you have anything to add, Malfoy," she finished, turning slightly to look at him. She always dreaded this, forced to meet his gaze by business protocol, and predictably lost her breath when he looked back. Blushing, she swiftly faced the confused prefects. On the other end of the large conference table, the unofficial Reunite Dramione Association exchanged significant looks.

"No, I don't believe so. Just make sure that you ask Flitwick for his help duplicating those snowflakes, Barnett," Draco said blankly, betraying no emotion. Rose nodded at the sound of her last name, before he added, "Meeting adjourned." Immediately most of the prefects began to collect their things, though the four observers lingered to watch the two Heads. Much to their disappointment, Hermione had clasped her bag by the time he had finished speaking and was already walking towards the door. Draco made no move to stop her, and soon she had left. The association pouted collectively. Draco took his time to give her a head start and avoid walking together back to their dorms.

Noticing he was still not alone, he looked up from behind his notes to find the four girls all staring at him. Sneering, he snarled at them,

"What are you loitering here for? Curfew's in twenty minutes! Go before I take away points!" They blinked at him. His upper lip curled. "Do you need a written invitation?"

Bee grumbled under her breath about ferrets as Ginny shot him a patented Weasley glare of disgust, but they reluctantly slung their bags over their shoulders and followed Hermione out the door.

"Hermione's caved apparently," Christine concluded once the door was safely shut and had dissolved back into the wall behind them. "She had trouble breathing when he dropped his quill, remember that?" Rose laughed, tossing her long brown hair over her shoulder.

"Poor girl, I wouldn't fancy being in her drab little shoes, sharing a dorm with him and everything." Bee smiled to herself before adding to the conversation,

"That means they'll be forced to see each other though, add to the sexual tension." The four girls laughed before breaking off into two parts, Ginny and Christine yelling good night as they continued down the seventh floor corridor, while Rose and Bee descended a set of stairs towards the Ravenclaw entrance.

Lingering a few meters behind them, the Head Boy frowned, watching Ginny's red hair swing back and forth. This complicated things.

_As if they weren't already complicated enough_, he whinged silently, fingering the leather strap of his bag. His steps required no thought as he ducked behind a tapestry to cut time, allowing his mind to trek into much more troubled waters. He was still wondering if his decision to break away from Hermione was a good one and every day recalled the truth in her words, _'We can't!'_ He wanted to, that should be enough! The war was over! Soon school would end and things like houses and parents wouldn't matter! Screw Potter, he had nothing to do with the fact that he-

No. He was doing it again, regretting and sugarcoating the facts. Potter did matter, Weasley did matter, and genetics did matter. Some things had changed, but others never would.

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On December 7th, Ginny noticed something odd, something that she could have cursed herself for not noticing before. Harry was talking to Ron about Professor Snape's replacement, Neville was flirting timidly with Christine, and Lavender was reading a French fashion magazine that Dean had magically translated for her. The redhead's brow furrowed as she wondered how she was the only one to have noticed it. Now it stood out stark against the normality of her days, and she knew it would bother her endlessly if she did nothing about it. Genuinely worried, she watched as across from her Hermione fiddled with her spoon between her thumb and index finger, but did nothing to eat her soup.

Ginny's eyes did not leave the elder girl's hands for about ten minutes as the Head Girl reviewed her notes for Charms. No change. The soup remained untouched. Finally Hermione looked up and glanced around, forcing Ginny to turn away and watch out of the corner of her eye as the brunette vanished her soup, her wand hidden under the table. She then put her notes back into her bag and stood up, saying she had to dash to the library. Dumbfounded, Ginny could only gape at her retreating back.

"Harry," she said weakly, immediately drawing his attention away from her brother. Ron scowled and turned to join Dean and Seamus' conversation about Ravenclaw's impending game with Hufflepuff, the final game before winter break. "When was the last time you saw Hermione eating anything?" He gave her a strange look before answering,

"We just ate lunch with her." She shook her head.

"No. When have you actually seen her _swallow_ something?" He blinked, but slowly the meaning of her words dawned on him, his eyes widening. Harry spluttered for a minute, picking up his coffee mug to have something to do with his hands.

"You can't mean that- no! Hermione eats, she does!" Again she shook her head sadly, leaning her chin on his shoulder. He looked back at her guiltily.

"I don't remember her eating since before her attraction with Malfoy ended," she answered for him, trying to work out what had happened. "She has to have eaten something, but she never does in public. Don't they have that minikitchen in the Head dorms?" He shrugged, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"We can't just ask her, she'd get defensive," he said, wheels slowly turning. "And the only other person who knows what goes on in her dorms would be Malfoy." Predictably, he sneered, pausing to glare at the Slytherin on the other side of the Great Hall. Draco wasn't looking. "But we can't exactly ask him, now can we?"

"Why not?" Ginny snapped, narrowing her eyes at Harry as she pulled away. Harry started, surprised. Pink growing in her freckled cheeks, she protested, "Honestly, if he cares about Hermione, then he will want to help us. Don't forget that he loved her, Harry." She groaned in frustration after receiving a blank look in response.

Defensive as he always was, the Boy-Who-Killed shook his head, before arguing,

"If he loved her why did he break her heart? You saw how upset she was that morning." It was true that she had no rebuttal against this, so the sixth year rolled her eyes and looked over to the Slytherin table, spotting Draco instantly. As usual, he was perched between Crabbe and Goyle, jotting down notes in a slim green notebook that she knew held his Quidditch game plans. Though Quidditch was over until March for both Gryffindor and Slytherin, he had continued plotting the darker house's comeback for the second half of the season.

"I know, Harry, I do," she said gently. "But if he can't give me a few straight answers then I'll just have to make him." There was a loose threat in her voice, and from the glint in his girlfriend's eye, Harry knew she was determined. Thus, he didn't protest as she stood up and walked away. With a sigh, he resigned himself to watching her from afar. Hell, maybe she could actually get a real answer out of Draco.

Ginny wasn't exactly confident as she approached the Slytherin table, but she did the best she could to look the part. Throwing her shoulders back, her every step was planned and deliberate. As she rounder the corner and strode between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables, heads slowly turned to spread the awareness of the Gryffindor until on the other end, Malfoy looked up from his quill, already donning a grimace at the name Weasley.

Zabini drawled to his crew when she was within earshot,

"Guard your wallets, boys, the Girl-Who-Shagged-Her-Way-To-Galleons is coming."

She glared at the back of his curly head as they snickered before she fired back,

"I do believe you've confused me with your mother, Zabini."

Everyone 'oooed' conspiratorially, aside from Zabini, who growled at her with a defeatist attitude. Having won that battle, she stopped to stand behind him and across from Draco, who faced her bravely, boredom etched into his features. "Malfoy, I need a word," she said crisply.

Everyone was silent, waiting for his answer. He set his book down and meticulously closed it, before knitting his hands together and resting them on the lip of the table. Taking his time, he glanced up at her briefly before taking a sip of water. A flicker of irritation shimmied through Ginny's mind. Like a boss addressing a failing employee, he examined her carefully.

"We can't always get what we want, Weaselette. Why should I care?" he asked snidely, drawing forth further sniggers from the elder Slytherins.

She _shifted her weight onto her other foot, biting her tongue. Think of Mione, she could handle him and so can you._ He should care, simply because of the attraction. He should want to know what was wrong, right? She just needed to stay calm, that was all. Patience.

"You should care because the Head Girl is ill and the Headmaster needs an update on the decorations for the Yule Ball." All right, there was nothing wrong with a few white lies. Thank goodness Professor Dumbledore hadn't arrived for the meal.

The change in Draco's attitude was subtle, but she was able to see the flicker of worry and doubt in his expression. He did care, he just didn't want to. He stood slowly, his movements exaggeratedly reluctant for the benefit of his entourage, and joked casually,

"The Mudblood probably caught some disease from your mutant of a brother, Weaselette."

She swallowed her retourt, thinking of how many weeks Hermione had been running on energy charms instead of real food. The idea drove her not to comment when he took his time swaggering in front of her, leading her out of the hall as if their meeting had been his idea. Ginny felt Harry's eyes on the back of her neck as she had always been able to, and knew that although she had no reason to be afraid of the Slytherin before her. If anything went wrong, Harry would protect her. Draco opened the doors leading to the Entrance Hall and let them fall shut behind him, not holding them for her. She grumbled under her breath as she wrenched them open again to find him waiting for her, leaning against the banister of the grand staircase. He watched her calculatingly, obviously wondering what she wanted. Ginny approached him carefully, stopping several feet away to keep a considerable distance between them.

"I'll get straight to the point, as I know that you probably want to spend as little time with me as possible, and let me tell you that I feel the same way." She was ranting, she knew it, and tried to use a little more tact. He was apparently amused by her nerves, and resumed his smirk. She paused to regain her breath.

"And what exactly would the point of this be? It seems the Headmaster has no need to talk to me?" he drawled pointedly, jutting his chin forward. She glared at him, clasping her hands behind her back.

"Hermione's not eating, or so we believe." She could spot no difference in his glacial expression, but knew that just as before, he cared more than he wanted to admit. "We can't recall her having a substantial meal since before the attraction between you two broke. We're worried and we were wondering if she might just be taking her meals in the Head's dorm. Do you know if she is?"

"I don't watch the Mudblood's every move, Weaselette, I'm sorry to disappoint you."

Again, she could spot no change in his exterior, and she did her best not to snap at his insult.

"Could you talk to her, possibly, and maybe just get her to-,"

"She has not been my problem for several weeks now," he snapped, straightening up. She took a step back out of reflex. "She is now your problem, as she has always been." On that final note he fixed her with a strong glare and stalked off towards the Slytherin common room. Ginny winced and lingered in the Entrance Hall, getting over the shock of his harsh refusal to help. What had she been expecting? But she knew that he would be watching Hermione much closer now anyway, and walked back to the Great Hall, pleased with the idea of one more person looking out for her friend.

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**A/N: I don't have much to say now other than to review and vote for me in the Dramione awards! Happy holidays everyone!**

**Next time: **_"Granger! Eat. The. Fucking. Food."_

**Yeah. I know. Dramatic. Tee hee.**

**Final Word Count: 4094**


	20. WWCD? What Would Cedric Do?

**A/N: Ok, I owe you all a huge apology. I'll admit I lost interest in fanfiction for a while, and I abandoned my fics for a very long time. I'm an awful person, I'm sorry. But I am forcing myself to continue, and I really do want to finish this fic. The fact that I won a Dramione Award for this fic shows that I owe you guys an ending, so I'll try to give it to you.**   
**I won't make excuses, but trust me when I say life has been a bitch lately. I've had a lot going on.**   
**So anyway, for anyone who can't remember where Hermione and Draco have left off, here's a minisummary of the past few chapters. Our two lovers are at a stalemate, each finding comfort in their new and old friends, such as Christine, Bee, and Rose, or in activities such as the upcoming Yule Ball and Quidditch. After a fight or two, Hermione and Draco have sworn to be friends, and both are avoiding the other, having forced memories of the attraction away. However, Ginny refuses to accept this, and has informed Draco of Hermione's recent lack of hunger, in the hope that his affection for her would force him to act.**   
**Everyone caught up? Ok, here we go.**   
**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything you might recognize. Nor do I own the Princess Diaries, as those novels are all the work of Meg Cabot.**

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**Chapter 20: WWCD? (What Would Cedric Do?)**

Draco Malfoy was not an idiot. He knew that it was completely within reason to believe that Hermione was so focused on planning the Yule Ball that she had forgotten to take care of herself. He also knew that she was stubborn, and though she had learned how to share her workload with others years ago, she would lash out at anyone who tried to talk to her about her lack of eating. Finally, he knew that were the Weasleys, Potter, or McKay and her merry band of romantics foolish enough to attempt such a feat, it could very well lead Hermione to yet another breakdown.   
They were friends now, at least by title, and if he was the only one who could talk to her reasonably, then perhaps he should try to. But he knew that if he came off as threatening, he would only make things worse for both of them. So at the end of the final prefect meeting, a week before the end of term and two weeks before the ball, he remained in his seat as everyone else left. Hermione had not yet bolted and was talking to a fifth year about when they would be setting up the karaoke stage. Draco waited for their conversation to end, calming considering what to say. He had gone over this for a while now, and wouldn't mess it up.   
The fifth year bid Hermione goodbye, seeming content, and the Head Girl turned back around to face the table, starting when she saw Draco had yet to leave the room. She found his expression very hard to read but knew that whatever he was going to say next would not be idle conversation. Trying to discourage him from speaking, she quickly walked back to her chair and snatched up her bag. He stood up as she began to rush away, and, without anticipating her reaction, coiled his fingers around her wrist before the brunette could take a step towards the door. Predictably, she jolted away and attempted to yank back her arm. In the interest of not appearing threatening, Draco let go quickly.   
Hermione whirled around, already furious and scowling. Slightly frightened by her already hostile expression, he held up both hands, palms out in a gesture of peace. She softened, her stiff shoulders relaxing and snarl losing its intensity.   
She frowned and said quietly, "Sorry, I've been on edge lately."   
He smirked as he responded, "I can see that."   
The Head Girl wasn't sure if she should be mad at his comment and merely settled for a distracted grimace. "Now what did you find so important that you needed to scare the living crap out of me?"   
Draco rolled his eyes, stepping an exaggerated foot backwards. She waited patiently for him to speak, genuinely curious now that her surprise had subsided. He hadn't tried to talk to her about anything other than the ball for the past few weeks, so this had to be important.   
"Am I not allowed to seek the pleasure of your company?" he teased, smiling innocently.   
Hermione struggled to adopt a matching happy expression, his words biting at her heart. He was flirting. Perhaps he didn't even notice, but she did. And though she pretended she was over the blond Slytherin, she knew that she wasn't. Her hope that distance might help had failed a while ago, and the fact that she had to stand next to him and pretend everything was fine hurt. His sentence fell flat at her lack of response, and his smile sank into an awkward frown to match the growing awkward silence.   
"Alright fine," he started over. "I'm speaking on behalf of the Weaselette. She's worried about you." He watched anxiously as Hermione's face twisted into a betrayed frown, her eyebrows knitting together.   
_Since when has Ginny discussed my well being with Draco?_ Hermione wondered, and she quickly came to a fairly accurate conclusion. She wants us back together. _That little traitor!_   
"What possible reason would she have to be worried about me?" she blurted out.   
"Apparently she has reason to believe that you aren't eating as much as you should be," he informed her, speaking slowly to discourage her from working herself up. She did anyway.   
Hermione scoffed and dropped her book-bag so as to be free to gesture madly with her hands. One was placed on her hip while the other hovered half extended at her side as she exclaimed, "I eat perfectly well! What does she think? That I have an eating disorder? This is silly! I eat three meals a day with them, every single day of the year!"   
Draco bit his lip in hesitation, considering whether he should engage in the argument she was obviously seeking, or to reassure her with blatant lies that she was eating fine and that they were just moronic Gryffindors. Deciding that backing off wouldn't help her in the slightest, he countered, "What's the last meal you ate?"   
She crossed her arms over her chest, rising to his bait. "Lunch today."   
He resisted the urge to smirk as he asked, "And what did you have?" He continued as she struggled to remember, "Salad? You always liked salad, Caesar in particular. Or maybe a sandwich? They were fairly rubbery today, but good nonetheless. Perhaps you just had some of that soup?" He was talking for the mere reason to win now, forgetting the fact that he was doing this to help her. "Or did you read your book on decorating? Or review your NEWT Potions notes? Or just rest your head on your hand and try to regain some of the sleep you're probably not getting lately?"   
Hermione tried frantically to remember what she had eaten but found she couldn't think of anything she had really eaten since she'd gotten out of the hospital wing. What had she done just a few hours ago during lunch? _I was reading my Charms notes. Then I vanished my meal so that Ron wouldn't tease me about worrying about my weight. But I wasn't doing anything wrong, was I? Just how often _**do**_ I vanish my meals? Surely not _**that**_ often._   
"I have to go," she whispered, wide-eyed. She snatched the handle of her bag and turned to rush for the door. Draco called out after her, but she was gone before he could think of what to do.   
"Well I guess that answers _that_ question," he said aloud to himself, realizing that helping Hermione out of her latest self-created mess was now his responsibility. He followed her back to their dorm and couldn't help but feel a little pleased as he walked by her closed door. He had just found himself back in her life, and had to say that he wasn't unhappy with the news. 

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Hermione didn't get that much sleep that night. She spent most of the night listening to her charmed iPod and half-heartedly reviewing her notes on the Yule Ball. Whenever her mind wandered, however, it wandered to the boy sleeping in the next room, and what his interest in her could possibly be in their post-attraction situation.   
_We're friends now_, she mocked bitterly, lying on her back in bed. She stared up at her canopy, her iPod playing something random and muffled in the background. _Friends who are too afraid to approach each other for fear of more awkward silences. Friends who secretly love each other and who wish the world wasn't so messed up. _She sat up and turned off her iPod before carelessly shoving everything off her bed. Parchment and books fanned out and landed with a series of dull thuds on the floor, but she couldn't find the energy to get up and sort everything out. Collapsing into her pillows, she closed her eyes and pressed the side of her face against her arm.   
It was in moments like this that she missed Cedric. She hadn't thought about him often in the past few weeks, but now, when she was confused and so lonely that she couldn't think straight, she missed his simple logic and comforting hugs. Had she loved him? She didn't know. But she had depended on him when her life was chaotic and her life had been without a center until she had found Draco. She didn't have Draco now and though her life wasn't as busy and troublesome as it had been while Voldemort had been growing in strength, she was still stressed and exhausted. Everyone had a match, a person to turn to, except her. Harry had Ginny and Hermione would never wish them any unhappiness. As fake as Lavender and Ron were, they were happy with their fake teenage relationship of drama and deceit. Even Christine was flirting with Neville, and she thought they would be an adorable couple if one ever got up the nerve to ask the other out.   
For a while she had had Draco, and they had shared each other's burdens. She had listened to him talk about his parents on the rare occasion when he felt the urge to unwind. Likewise he had respected her late mourning of Cedric and been more respectful than she believed Harry and Ron could ever be. He had been an unexpected relief, a miracle, and she missed him, too. He was so close and yet so far away.   
It wasn't fair. She loved him. She knew she did. She hated sitting next to him once a week during meetings and pretending she hated him like every other Gryffindor. She hated listening to Ron badmouth him each evening in the common room. She just hated everything. With Draco everything had fit. Without him, everything was like a puzzle that just wouldn't match up.   
_What would Cedric do?_ She asked herself idly, and the answer came to her quickly. He would ignore what everyone else said or thought. He'd go after the one he wanted. Maybe she should do the same.   
But how?   
_The ball. _It was soon, two weeks away. _Should I ask him to be my date?_ No, too public. _But what's wrong with public?_ It would scare him off. He cared about his reputation, and perhaps being her date would be too much for him. _Well, then what?_   
The idea that came to her was brilliant. She smiled as she reminded herself to talk to Luna the next day about it. Then she drifted off to sleep. 

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Draco put his plan into action the very next morning. He got up and prepared for his morning classes before going into the kitchenette and calling up two plates of bacon and eggs from the kitchens down below. Once they were delivered up by a courteous house elf, he arranged them at the small kitchen table where he and Hermione had eaten during the attraction. He poured them each a glass of ice water and set up a pitcher of milk on the counter, just in case she wanted it. Then he sat down in one of the wooden chairs to wait, pulling out a Princess Diaries novel that he had pilfered from Hermione's rooms earlier in the week upon getting bored.   
A third of the way through Princess in Waiting, Hermione stepped out of her room looking tired but determined. She didn't notice him and strode towards the door once again.   
"Granger!" he called out to her pleasantly once the purple book was safely hidden in his book bag under the table. Predictably, she stiffened and turned slowly around, seeming wary. Upon seeing the two matching plates of food, she fell upon the correct conclusion that he was still bent on this 'Hermione doesn't eat' plan. Well, he cared. That was a small victory in itself.   
"Good morning," she said carefully, taking a step backwards. Draco stood up and walked around the table towards her. "I'm sorry but I must be going, I wanted to consult Professor McGonagall about the-,"   
"Have breakfast with me," he said slowly, interrupting. She stopped talking immediately, her hand frozen on the latch of the portrait. If she had been girly enough to let her imagination run loose, she could have said that there was a note of pleading in his voice, and that his eyes had a shine of desperation. Perhaps if she had been more girly, she would have realized that he was seeking her company. Perhaps if she had been less defensive, she would have allowed herself this small victory. However as it stood, Hermione Granger found her self-respect a step above her love for Draco Malfoy, and this was a primary obstacle in the way of them being happy together.   
"I can't," she whined. It wasn't because she didn't have time; she believed that if she had breakfast with him, it would be admitting she had an eating disorder, which she refused to admit she did. But really, on a subconscious level, she just couldn't allow herself to be vulnerable. Not yet at least.   
"Oh come on, what's stopping you?" Draco protested, marching across the room towards her. She backed up against the wall, refusing to let herself cave. But Merlin did she want to. "Are you worried that Potter will find out? Or Weasley? Or are you scared that by spending more than a _second_ with me, you'll be unable to pretend nothing happened between us?" Hermione gasped, unable to recall when his pleading had turned into something else, something about _them_.   
She had to go.   
"I can't do this," she forced out, her voice wavering and choppy. His face crumbled, showing his disappointment and hurt.   
He ground out, "Granger. Eat. The. Fucking. Food." He pointed at the table, his silver eyes locking with hers. He already knew his attempt was feeble.   
"I'm sorry," she said honestly before she turned her back to him and opened the portrait hole, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the room.   
Once she was out in the hallway, the portrait closed behind her, she yelled out in frustration, "I'm such an **IDIOT**!"   
At breakfast she sat down across from Ginny, and she made a big show of eating her breakfast of bacon, eggs, and waffles slowly. She savored every bite and knew Draco was watching. He had succeeded in more than one way. The first was that she was eating.   
The second was that he had made her think.   
'_Or are you scared that by spending more than a second with me, you'll be unable to pretend nothing happened between us?'_   
She wouldn't be able to pretend anymore. 

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**A/N: Wow. I actually really like this chapter. Sweet. So anyway, you'll find out more about Hermione's chapter later on. I think I'm going to rush the end of this fic a bit more. I was going to do a whole bunch of chapters focusing on Hermione and Draco's UST (unresolved sexual tension, haha) but I think I just don't have the energy. The next chapter or the one after that will be the ball, and I think I'll do more than one chapter on what happens there. **   
**So anyway, I'm not going to give you a teaser, but I'll give you a low-down on what's left to resolve before this fic can end. Fair?**   
**The whole Ron/Lavender/Parvati triangle. No boy gets away with cheating. End of story.** **Remember Hermione's urge to fix up the Shrieking Shack? I have to tie that up somehow.** **Draco did promise himself he'd play guitar again. That should be fun.** **Hermione's little plan to get Draco back.** **I'm playing with the idea of whether Hermione should tell Harry and Ron about her little tryst thing with Cedric.** **Christine and Neville? ** **Hermione can sing. Yeah, I'm making things fairly obvious.** **Ron/Draco fighting.** **Hermione needs to get laid. Hahahaha, just kidding. Except not really. Maybe the epilogue…**   
**So anyway, review! I'm super excited and pleased that I'm currently resting at the comfortable 1300 review mark, and I hope I didn't lose too many readers by taking that unannounced hiatus. So please review, guys. Feel free to share any guesses about what's going to happen in the last few chapters. And once again, I'm sorry for the break. School is out in two and a half weeks, so I think I'll be able to finish this fic this summer. Sounds good to me.**   
**Later!**


	21. Let's Do This Thing

**A/N: A brief message: I don't know what was going on with the centering last chapter. I reposted the last chapter sooooo many times to try and remove the centering, and I agree that it was incredibly annoying. I couldn't fix it, sorry guys. I hope that it doesn't happen with this chapter as well, and if it does, I'm sorry.**

**So I'm glad you all liked the last chapter. It was strange getting back into this fic but I'm really enjoying writing it, so no worries. You can see that I'm getting into it by how fast I've updated! As you might have noticed or will notice, my writing style itself is starting to change, but hopefully it won't put you off the story.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

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**Chapter 21: Let's Do This Thing**

The week before the Yule Ball flew by in a rush of Witch Weekly fashion catalogues and wizarding records. Hermione found herself listening to album upon album with Luna to put together a soundtrack for the dance, as well as reassuring the Headmaster that the night would be a fun, innocent night for the upper years to blow off some steam during break. Using her busy schedule as an excuse, she was able to get out of the massive shopping outing to Hogsmeade for dresses, smiling apologetically to the hyper Bee and Rose when they invited her to go with them. She opted to spend a quiet night with Christine in the Heads' common room, magicking up tamer albeit flattering dresses inspired by a massive stock of magazines her new friend had picked up over the years. Hermione and Christine were growing very close and were called the Dynamic Duo by most of Gryffindor house. She had always hated group nicknames, as she had been forced to endure the Golden Trio tagline that haunted her, Harry, and Ron for most of their time at Hogwarts, but she was fairly relieved that she had found such a good friend, especially when Ron and Harry were now fairly independent from her. The four of them, plus Ginny and on occasion, Neville and Lavender, formed their own loose clique at night in the Gryffindor common room.

On the surface, things were coming together for Hermione. The preparations for the Yule Ball were nearly complete, and she was finally comfortable with her friends. Alone, when the eyes of others were focused elsewhere, however, Hermione was frantic.

Draco had kept his distance after being rejected for breakfast, and Hermione was thankful. The peace his disappearance offered gave her time to worry about more important issues, and once planning was out of the way, she was able to figure out what she wanted to do to get him back. The first step was to figure out what she wanted, not an easy task. She settled on the idea that she would like a real relationship with him, a public one, where they didn't have to sneak around and could openly show affection for one another. Next came the hard part, how to achieve such a thing. The answer was that she had to show she loved him and that anything else was secondary. The only way to do so would be to publicly, though subtly, show her feelings for him. Thus, going up to him in the middle of the Great Hall and snogging him was out of the question. She ended up deciding to make her move at the Yule Ball, meaning that this one night would decide everything. It would show whether she really was good enough for her position as Head Girl, and it would decide whether she would spend the rest of her year at Hogwarts embarrassed and alone.

The pressure was incredible.

The night before the ball was hard. She spent it alone in her bedroom, running over what she would have to do the next day.

"Dress?" she said aloud as she went over her mental checklist. Peering into her wardrobe, she made sure her transfigured dress was still on its hanger. It was. "Check."

"Music?" She went over to her desk and picked up the large record that featured the music she had personally selected for tomorrow. It would be played amidst the other records that would be requested for karaoke. "Check."

Hermione ran out of things to check, so she paced over to her mirror and studied her reflection self-consciously. Her fearful hazel eyes stared back at her, reflecting what she could hide from everyone but herself. She was scared beyond belief. What she was going to do tomorrow night was not safe, was not something she would ever do if she hadn't met Draco. But turning back was no longer an option. The idea sent a thrill down her spine and she smiled at herself, the risk feeling just a little bit fantastic.

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In the next room, Draco was doing something similar. He had laid out his outfit for the following evening; 'relaxed fancy' as Rose Barnett had so jauntily put it. He was going with dark gray slacks and a nice charcoal button-down shirt along with an understated black dress robe made of velvet and silk, unable to completely abandon his wizarding background. This year's Yule Ball was going to completely different from the others, a fact Hermione was very proud of, and Draco couldn't ignore the requested dress code of Muggle attire because it would disrespect Hermione's brainchild. Besides, he knew he looked good in whatever he wore, and his ego played a direct role in the darker outfit he had chosen, seeing as darker clothing set off his lighter hair.

He had no grand plan for the next night, and had taken Hermione's words to heart. Whether she had feelings left for him or not, she apparently wasn't keen on the idea of a relationship, and there was no point in pursuing her. All that would do would scare her off, and that was the last thing he wanted. For now he would just wait for the ball to be over, and then there were six months left before graduation. He had all the time in the world.

Draco wasn't very tired for some reason, so he went out into the common room and paced into the kitchenette. The candles were unlit, and the only source of light was the calmly lapping fire crackling in the grate across the room. Hermione was asleep, judging by the lack of light emerging from under her door, and Draco poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher resting on the kitchen counter, hoping she was sleeping calmly, free from nightmares. He worried about her more than he would like to admit, and secretly he was glad she was paying more attention to her diet. She was sleeping more now that planning for the ball was finished, and she spent more nights in their common room reading a book unrelated to school work, or with McKay or the Weaselette just relaxing and being a teenage girl. He stayed out of her way, not really avoiding her but just giving her the space they both needed.

He eased himself onto a sofa in front of the fire, settling in to watch the flames. He was happy for Hermione. It seemed like her life was coming together. She had friends, good friends who respected her and who looked out for her. She was spending much less time with Potter and Weasley, it seemed, and more with McKay, which was healthy. Weasley was an asshole, and Potter was… well Draco had to admit Potter was pretty nice, to Hermione at least. But Potter was oblivious and didn't really understand her most of the time, not in the way that she needed to be understood. _Not in the way I understand her_, Draco found himself thinking.

Behind him Hermione's door cracked open, and seconds later the Head Girl herself ventured on tip-toe out into the common room. Draco turned and watched her as she made her way over to the kitchenette and plucked a fresh glass off the shelf before turning around to fill it with water. She was wearing that tiny little red nightgown she had worn the first night they had shared a bed, and he heated up as he saw her hair loose and tumbling over her shoulders. She seemed comfortable, relaxed, and he smiled slightly as she took a sip from her glass. Merlin, she was beautiful. He sighed.

She jolted, looking over in his direction to see him silhouetted by the red light of the fire. Blushing, she smoothed down the front of her nightdress, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. Unsure of what to say, she told him simply, "I thought you were asleep."

He nodded, still watching her over the back of the couch. "Same here."

Neither really knew what to do, and Hermione fingered the rim of her glass.

"I-I should go back to sleep," she said as she started to walk back to her doorway.

Draco knew he should say something to get her to stay, something serious and meaningful, but nothing came to mind. Instead he settled for small talk.

"You did a great job on the ball." She paused in her doorway, leaning against the frame. He congratulated himself inwardly and moved in his seat to face her. "It's going to be terrific, I'm sure of it." Some of his hair tumbled into his eyes and he pushed it away with his free hand.

"Thank you," she said softly, trying to figure out if she should stay. She wanted to. Perhaps if they started a conversation she would be allowed to sit down with him? "You've helped out a lot too." _There, good job Hermione! That's a good comment._

Draco waved her off bashfully, but nonetheless smiled. She melted. "I didn't do anything; this has been your success. Take pride in it."

She blushed, though he couldn't see in the darkness. He was complimenting her! "Are you kidding? No one listens to me. I organized, you got people to work."

"You'd be surprised, actually. People respect you and look up to you. They're just afraid of me." She laughed at his joke, and he grinned. They were like a new couple, getting to know each other, instead of ex-enemies, ex-lovers. This was good.

"That doesn't stop most of the girls in this school from worshipping you. Half the girls who pretend to hate you are actually members of the Draco Malfoy Fan club." She was flirting! Score one for the Malfoy!

"Would that include you?" he teased. But he had gone too far. Hermione frowned, straightening her posture.

"I don't do fan clubs, Malfoy," she answered tightly. Without realizing it he had disrespected her. He winced. But her tone had softened when she added, "Goodnight." She closed the door behind her.

**0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0MA0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0**

The night had finally come. It was six o'clock and the ball would start in two hours. And Hermione was freaking out.

Well, not freaking out, per se, seeing as freaking out is normally accompanied by making a scene in public or screaming your head off. Perhaps for some it could mean crying uncontrollably. So, perhaps it is smarter to say that Hermione was doing some quiet panicking. And by that I mean that she sat on the edge of her bed wearing her lovely black halter dress, her hair curled up into a messy and sexy bun pinned casually at the back of her head with two black bobby pins, thinking of everything that could possibly go wrong that evening. And there was a lot that could possibly go wrong that evening.

_He could laugh_, she thought, fiddling her fingers together, her small nails reflecting little flecks of light onto the ceiling. She had spelled them black to match the dress, a choice that had amused Lavender and Parvati greatly when she had gone to borrow a glamour book from them that afternoon. But she was going for an effect, and if shocking nails would get her a response, then she would have shocking nails.

_He could laugh at me. Or he could walk out_. She didn't like to think about it but she was thinking about it anyway. Rejection with a big, capital R. Hermione didn't much fancy the word rejection. It was such a harsh word, brutal and almost mocking. She didn't much fancy rejection, period, actually, and was hoping that she wouldn't be rejected that night. Hermione rubbed the satiny fabric of her skirt between the pads of her thumb and index finger, looking down at the floor.

_Or he could just not do anything and pretend he doesn't care_. Hermione closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down, controlling her breath. She thought of the lake, sitting in the rowboat all alone with the rain falling slowly down in silence, blurring her vision until she could barely see. Just a grainy movie, a flickering of film. Solitude.

_Stop thinking about peace, you need to get ready_. And she did. She needed to put on her shoes and her necklace and go speak to Luna and-

_Is Draco still next door?_ Hermione stood up and paced to her door before pressing her ear childishly against it. There was no sound coming from the common room. He hadn't been in their dorms since noon, when he had left to go to lunch. Where he had gone after that, she didn't know.

_Put on your shoes and get your necklace_, she reminded herself. _You have a ball to host. _

And she did.

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Draco's moment of brilliance had come earlier that morning when he had been lying in bed contemplating what would happen later that day. Staring at his canopy with an idle sense of loneliness, the Slytherin had wondered whether simply waiting for something to happen between him and Hermione was a very constructive use of his time. He had never actually tried to romantically seduce the Head Girl, and any relationship they had was a product of the circumstance they had been forced into by the Attraction. Had he ever asked her to be his girlfriend? No. Had they ever been on a date? No. Perhaps that was the problem, he had never pursued her. He had tried to start things up again when she was in the hospital wing, but did that really count? That had been hardly romantic. Girls loved romantic stuff. It was in their genetic makeup.

Hermione wasn't like other girls, though. So maybe she wouldn't like romance? Pah, of course she would. Just not as showy, as flashy as most guys would chose. No bouquets of roses, then. No serenading her at the ball. Well, that was reasonable. He didn't quite want to sing. He could, but he just didn't feel like it. What if she laughed? It didn't matter anyway, he _wasn't going to sing_.

_What does Hermione want?_ He asked himself. _What does she want to do?_ What was something personal, that she wouldn't tell Potter or Weasley? Draco sighed and forced himself to get out of bed. It was getting late.

And then it came to him.

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When Hermione arrived at the doors to the Great Hall a crowd was already forming. Students from the upper years milled around, greeting friends and checking out each other's outfits. As she ascended the stairs, she examined the crowd, smiling as she noticed all of the variation of clothing. Most girls had opted for dresses varying in formality, as dresses were the common middle ground between wizarding robes and Muggle clothing. Several girls, most likely Muggle-born or half-blooded, were wearing miniskirts that would surely make McGonagall flinch when she saw them. Guys wore mainly trousers and button-down shirts, while a few clever dressers wore blazers over regular t-shirts. A scattered few wore simple wizarding robes over their clothing, and that included Draco, who was standing with a small clique of Slytherins on the outskirts of the crowd. She tried not to stare at him, not that she could see much from the distance and angle from where she was, and looked instead for her own friends.

Harry and Ron, along with Ginny, Lavender, Neville, Christine, Bee, and Rose, were where they usually were, in the center of the action. Bee, Rose, and Christine all wore what could only be described as club wear, mainly miniskirts of assorted colors and material, along with shiny strapless or halter tops. They had certainly taken liberties with their own term 'relaxed fancy,' with an emphasis on relaxed and a very different kind of fancy. Lavender had on a strapless pink cocktail dress that complemented her loose blond hair quite nicely, and Ginny stuck out in a bright blue party dress with a large bow on the front, looking very innocent and untouchable. Her innocently misleading appearance came from the curly ponytail her hair was in, where as her untouchability had a great deal to do with Harry's arm around her waist. Harry and Ron both had on khakis and button-down shirts, and Ron had a dark blue robe slung over his shoulder, presumably for if he went outside and got cold.

All in all, everyone looked fantastic. Hermione beamed.

Ginny noticed her friend approaching first and started clapping immediately, smiling at the beautiful appearance of the Head Girl. Ginny had been worried about Hermione for a very long time, and the fact that the older girl had begun eating again was a relief. However it wasn't until Hermione floated down the stairs in a beautiful dress, looking like a dark angel, that Ginny believed Hermione's problem was solved. As applause spread from Ginny to Harry, and then from Harry to everyone else, the sixth year thought everything might be ok.

"You look bloody fantastic!" Ginny gasped as soon as Hermione was near enough to hear. Hermione was already grinning widely and could grin no further, fearing her face would split open if she attempted to. The redhead caught her in a hug, gripping her tightly. When the two split, Draco was already at her side. Ron snarled in disgust and quickly busied himself with talking to his girlfriend. Harry followed his lead and pulled Ginny away. Soon Draco and Hermione were alone as everyone paired off and left them in the center of the crowd.

Now that Draco was right in front of her, Hermione couldn't resist the urge to gawk. He was wearing dark trousers and a button-down that was almost black, along with a black velvet robe that hung open. He thankfully hadn't gelled his hair, and it lay loose around his face, straight and grease-free as usual. The glint in his eye and the nervous frown on his face made her heart flutter and for a second Hermione swore she could hear his breath quicken, but it was only her imagination. He was perfect.

"We need to open the doors, Granger," he said quietly, his voice patient but strangely anxious. Was he nervous? Hermione's grin had faded naturally and she smiled casually at him as she nodded. Perhaps picked up by her perkiness, he smiled quickly back before disguising his face in its normal smirk. "And I need to talk to you," he added, his right hand slipping into his pants pocket. "When you get a chance, ok?" She nodded, figuring he needed to speak to her about decorations or something of the sort. Draco was satisfied by her answer and removed his hand from his pocket.

"Alright," Hermione said devilishly. "Let's do this thing."

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**A/N: Weeeee next chapter's the baaaaaaalllllll! Yay! Ok, so if you want to see what I had in mind for Hermione's dress, you can follow this linky here, just remove the spaces and click on the pics in black: ( **http // www . fairygothmother . com / cc-48 . htm** ) If you want to see what I had in mind for Ginny's dress, you can do the same with this link: ( **http // www . edressme . com / dressesw5056 . html

**So anyway, I dropped soooo many hints with my teaser/reminders last chapter, so I'm not going to give any teasers now. But next chapter includes Evanescence, if you must know something. And so, it seems both Draco and Hermione have a surprise planned for each other. Hmmm… yeah have fun waiting for that. Laters!**


	22. Where We Started

**A/N: Ok, I'm writing this months in advance. It's actually early June while I write this. Anyway, this is the chapter I've been waiting for since I started this fic, to be honest. I'll just let you read it then, shall I?**

**I love my beta. You are awesome.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own the two songs in this chapter, which both belong to Evanescence. Please don't sue me. Please? I'm only borrowing them.**

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**Chapter 22: Where We Started**

Hermione couldn't recall a time in which she had last been so blissfully happy. She was nervous as fucking hell, but she _was_ very happy. She was so happy that she didn't even care when Parvati Patil sat down next to her at the small circular table that had been unofficially labeled as the Golden Trio table (plus friends and dates). The Head Girl sipped butterbeer out of a small glass mug, smiling placidly at anyone to walk by, and half-listened to the Gryffindor girl raving in her ear.

"Oh, shit, should I tell Lavender I feel like I should she should know that Ron is cheating on her but what if she gets mad at me but it isn't my fault but she won't blame him she'll blame me and Merlin she looks so much prettier than I do, stupid skank gets everything, oh but she's my friend and well I'm sleeping with her boyfriend so I guess I'm no better am I it doesn't matter should I tell her or not?" Parvati had apparently decided she could trust Hermione enough to tell her about her confusion relating to Ron and Lavender, seeing as Hermione had known about their secret relationship for over a month without saying anything. Hermione, of course, couldn't care less about what Parvati did, seeing as whatever happened to Ron wouldn't be unwarranted. Sadistically amused by her friend's mistake, she took another sip of her butterbeer and resumed watching her other friends out on the dance floor.

The only other Yule Ball that Hogwarts had held during her time at the school had been formal and grand. This was grand in its own right, but was hardly formal. The students on the dance floor were dancing however they so chose, and the fact that Professor McGonagall was no where to be found made it easier for the teenagers to get away with what could only be called grinding. Not everyone was indulging themselves in freak dancing, though there was a tight circle of such dancing going on across the floor. Hermione chose to pretend that she had not seen Ginny and Harry in a very close position hardly doing a waltz.

Luna switched records at the DJ booth, saying in her dreamy voice, "Now we have a request from Neville dedicated to Christine. This is 'All I Want for Christmas.' Aw, how cute! I guess Neville fancies her." In a tamer portion of the dance floor, Neville blushed as his date laughed kindly and kissed him on the cheek before the song started. Hermione smiled and reminded herself to congratulate Christine later on. The sixth year had confided her crush on Neville to Hermione while they had been planning their outfits.

"Hermione are you listening Hermione seriously what do you think should I tell Lavender or not come on I need an answer?" Parvati said frantically, her gold wrist bracelets clanging as she clapped her hands on the table. Hermione shrugged, nonplussed, and nodded her head in tune to the bouncy song playing. "Hermione?" But she would get no answer. Frustrated, the twin stood up and stalked away, off to contemplate her next move in private. Hermione hardly realized she was alone until a sweaty Ginny sat down in Parvati's empty chair. They were joined soon after by Harry, who sat down next to Ginny.

"So Neville finally fessed up to Christine, eh?" he said, reaching out to retrieve his half-full mug of butterbeer. Hermione shrugged once again, watching the room for any sign of distress. Finding nothing, she turned her attention back to Harry, amazed that the night was going so smoothly.

"I suppose so. Oh I do think they'll be happy together," she responded. Ginny nodded her agreement.

"She's liked him for ages, actually. Maybe since my third year. She was jealous as hell when he asked me to the ball back then." It wasn't hard to believe that someone so quiet as Christine had been able to like a boy for four years and not let anyone in on her crush. As Neville's song ended, Luna called out that a fifth year Hufflepuff named Jade would sing a song next. The threesome watched the petite brunette sing karaoke, reading the lyrics of a wizarding song Hermione didn't recognize off of a small glass tablet mounted near the floor in front of the stage. The lyrics would appear as the song went on, and magicking the tablet had taken Draco a good three hours. Hermione watched the girl with respect, knowing how afraid the she must be. Nonetheless Jade did well and returned to her friends once her song was over. As the next request was played, Ginny and Harry returned to the dance floor, laughing happily.

Hermione scanned the room for Draco but couldn't spot him. After opening the ball he had disappeared into the crowd and she hadn't seen him since. He was most likely making sure things went smoothly over by the banquet table, possibly monitoring the punch to ensure no one attempted to spike it. She hoped he was watching, at least, as a drunken guest wouldn't look good to the headmaster at all. Not that Dumbledore would notice, as he was currently feasting on a bowl of lemon drops set up on the table just for him.

"Hey," said a familiar voice as someone slid smoothly into the chair next to her. It was Draco and Hermione jolted, taken by surprise. "Looks like this is a success."

She bit back a smile as she turned to face him and said, "Well we both worked hard enough." There was an awkward silence as neither of them could think of what to say now that small talk had been shared. Hermione began to fiddle with her plain silver necklace and turned her eyes back to the small stage, not wanting to stare at him. Draco looked down at his hands on the table. _Why am I so scared?_ he thought_. It's only Hermione, the girl who loves me._

"You wanted to talk to me earlier?" Hermione finally asked, remembering their brief conversation. He started, then nodded, clearing his throat. She waited patiently as he gathered his courage.

"Right, well, um." _Note to self: Kill self for not being eloquent_, Draco snarled internally. He started over. "I wanted to say that I'm really glad that we've… stayed friends and I wanted to give you-,"

"Next we have Hermione singing a song by Evanescence," Luna cut in, and Hermione fought the urge to flip off the Ravenclaw.

_Draco was about to say something_, she whined inside. _Five more minutes, please! _But she had to go. This was her gift to Draco. She reached out and placed her hand over Draco's on the table, closing her fingers around his.

"Hold that thought," she said, looking into his eyes intently. _Don't move. Listen to this song, I beg you. It's for you._

Draco nodded, exasperated but understanding. He watched as Hermione dashed towards the stage, her skirt flying along behind her. He had to admit that he had forgotten Hermione could sing, and that she had promised to sing a song if he helped her get a DJ for the ball. Knowing whatever was to happen would be entertaining at least, he leaned back onto the back legs of his chair to watch, crossing his arms over his chest. Hermione settled in on stage behind the microphone and watched the tablet in front of her as the beginning notes to 'My Immortal' started playing. Draco listened intently, watching her every quiver and nervous finger tap against the side of the mike. As she began to sing, she looked directly at him.

"_I'm so tired of being here_

_Suppressed by all my childish fears_

_And if you have to leave I wish that you would just leave_

_Cause your presence still lingers here_

_And it won't leave me alone."_

All Draco knew about Evanescence was that they were a loud Muggle rock group that Hermione liked to blast every once and a while. He knew a few of the angrier songs well, seeing as they were the ones Hermione liked to blast when she was upset or profoundly annoyed. The one she was singing, however, was new to him. He listened to the words, knowing that there had to be a reason why Hermione had picked this slow song to sing, and why she was still staring directly at him when everyone else was slow dancing or watching her in awe.

"_These wounds won't seem to heal_

_This pain is just too real_

_There's just too much that time cannot erase_

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears_

_When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears_

_And I've held your hand through all of these years_

_But you still have all of me."_

The words were romantic in a way, but more depressing than anything else. They were about loss and death, perhaps. Breaking up? Draco frowned, wondering what the song was about. On stage, Hermione was trembling, searching Draco's face for any emotion. None was forthcoming, so she continued on with the second verse, confused.

"_You used to captivate me _

_By your resonating life _

_Now I'm bound by the life you've left behind _

_Your face it haunts _

_My once pleasant dreams _

_Your voice it chased away _

_All the sanity in me."_

Something was very wrong with this song, Draco decided. It wasn't about him, it was about someone else. Someone dead. Someone Hermione had cared about a lot. His mouth curling into a disgusted sneer as he felt his heart break. _She's singing about Diggory. She loves Diggory. Why is she looking at me? Is this her way of rubbing salt in my wounds? That little __**bitch.**_

"_These wounds won't seem to heal_

_This pain is just too real_

_There's just too much that time cannot erase."_

Draco thrust himself away from his table, feeling like a fool. She had tricked him! She had lured him here, had manipulated him to get this fucking ball set up, and then she had made a fool out of him in front of _everyone_!

_What, was she trying to break your heart again? That's not Hermione, you know it's not Hermione, she wouldn't do that to you, no she wouldn't, she loves you. She loves you. Oh Merlin please, she has to love you or else everything I know is a lie._

No! She didn't love him! That's what this was! He sneered one final time at Hermione before twisting around and striding away towards the Entrance Hall, drawing the curious stares of anyone he passed. On stage, Hermione saw Draco leaving and panicked, dropping the mike onto the stage and leaping off onto the floor. She almost tripped but regained her balance, dashing after him. He was almost at the doors by the time she caught up with him. The music was still playing.

_I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone_

_But though you're still with me_

_I've been alone all along._

"Malfoy!" she yelled out as he threw open the doors. Draco whipped around, fury written all over his face, bitter words already on his tongue. She had the nerve to look _genuinely confused_! To chase him! He couldn't process what was going on and all he knew was _pain_. Hermione halted to a stop a few feet away, feeling her heart in her throat. What was he doing?

"Do you think this is funny? _Do you?!"_ he yelled, eyes flashing. She flinched backwards, scared out of her wits. Out of all the things that could have happened, she hadn't expected _this_. Yelling and screaming? Had she missed something?

"What are you talking about?" she asked, feeling hopeless. They were both ignorant to the crowd of students watching them.

"_**Diggory?!**_ Why would you bring up _**Diggory?!**_ I thought you were _**over**_ him, I thought you were _**finished**_!" He was out of control now, furious. _My god he looks like his father_. What had happened? What did Cedric have to do with anything? She just didn't _understand_.

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears_

_When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears_

_And I held your hand through all of these years_

_But you still have_

_All of me._

"What does this have to do with him?" she screamed, frustrated and scared. Tears were building behind her eyes and this was not what she needed right now. Why couldn't things just work out? Why couldn't he just _love_ her? Draco was panting, his hair in his eyes and his face pointed and scared. He was half furious and half afraid, afraid of being robbed of his pride and his dignity all because he let himself love someone. And she, a Muggleborn, a _Mudblood_, had thrown his love back in his face in public! This was all just a game, a twisted game of revenge for all the years he'd taunted her about her blood. Well _he had been right_, hadn't he? Awful little slut with her Hufflepuff boxers and her singing and her fame. Just a little poser, a little liar. And Merlin help her, he would _expose her for the fake that she was_.

"Everything! Nothing! _It doesn't fucking matter!_ You're just a little Mudblood bitch!" Gasps followed Draco's insult. Hermione took a step backwards, shocked and startled. Her tears started to fall, silently but quickly. Draco himself knew that he had gone too far but he couldn't stop now. How long had she been messing with him? How far back had her plan started? After the attraction? During? _Before_?!

The next song on Luna's record started playing on its own, seeing as Luna herself was watching the two Heads arguing. It was another Evanescence song, 'Everybody's Fool,' and if Hermione had been paying attention, she might have remembered hearing it in a nightmare…

_Perfect by nature_

_Icons of self-indulgence_

_Just what we all need_

_More lies about a world that_

_Never was and never will be_

_Have you no shame don't you see me_

_You know you've got everybody fooled_

"I'm done with this," Draco snarled, lowering his voice now that he had the upper hand. He shoved his hand into his back pocket and pulled out something shiny, a single key. Hermione watched it warily, still not knowing what to expect from the Slytherin. "I bought this for you, a Christmas gift," he sneered sarcastically. "Keep it, I don't _fucking_ want it." He threw the key down on the floor, where it lay untouched. Hermione let out a single sob, her eyes pleading with him to stop. It was too late. Draco turned around and left through the open doors. He stalked towards the Slytherin dorms, disappearing into the shadows.

_Look here she comes now_

_Bow down and stare in wonder_

_Oh how we love you_

_No flaws when you're pretending_

_But now I know she_

_Never was and never will be_

_You don't know how you've betrayed me_

_And somehow you've got everybody fooled_

Hermione watched him leave without making a sound. Finally she broke and raised her hands up to her face, crying into her palms. Ginny rushed out of the crowd to her friend's side but when she tried to help Hermione, the girl shoved her away. "No," Hermione whined. "No!" She shrugged off Ginny's arms and ran away. Ginny watched sadly as Hermione sprinted up the stairs in the Entrance Hall, and bent over to pick up the key that Hermione had left behind. It glinted in the light.

_Without the mask where will you hide?_

_Can't find yourself lost in your lie _

_I know the truth now_

_I know who you are_

_And I don't love you anymore_

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It was the tower again, with snow spiraling around her and the harsh winter cold biting at the skin that the ribbons of her black dress didn't cover. She looked down at the lawn, jaded and desperate for some outlet. '_I hate you_,' nipped at her brain, his voice haunting her. '_I don't love you anymore_.' She hummed along without realizing it, the words seeming to echo across the silent grounds even though the song was long over. '_It never was and never will be_.' She wasn't crying like before, she wasn't lonely and hopeless. She was simply heartbroken, nothing new. Her satin-clad feet poked out over the railing, scuffing softly on the stone. The night seemed poetic in its simplicity, so unlike the rush of three years previous. She didn't know whether to be upset or relieved that there would be no daredevil on a broomstick to swoop under and catch her. His cold eyes seemed to glare up at her from the snow. She smiled back.

It would be so easy to just fall, but what problems had that brought her in the past? It had given her Cedric, and then caused her to open up to Draco. What a bad idea that had been. She ran a hand up her arm, knowing this was a terrible idea. This was cowardly, this finally caving in, giving up again. Wasn't there always something to look forward to? What had happened to that theory?

And yet, the image of him sneering down at her, his face pained, '_You don't know how you betrayed me._' He was being cold for no reason; the boy who she was sure had loved her. She picked up her foot and let it dangle over the edge.

There would be no handsome seventh year to save her now, no mysterious dark-haired boy to scoop her up out of her misery and rescue her from her pain. If she really were to leap, to throw herself out into the air and feel the biting December wind rush against her face, it would be the end. Hermione Granger, Head Girl, suicidal? The papers would love it. And Draco, well, he wouldn't care. He wouldn't feel guilty. It would be her fault, after all. It wasn't as if he was pushing her off the tower. He wasn't even there.

_He thought I was singing about Cedric_, she realized. _He thought I was mocking him_. That was ridiculous; couldn't he tell that she loved him? That she had gone up there to sing about him? To ask for forgiveness? She had wounded his ego unintentionally. She had embarrassed him in front of half the school. She had embarrassed _herself_ in front of half the school. And now they all knew there had been something between Cedric and her. The rumors would be circulating. If she killed herself, she wouldn't have to deal with them. The end, the ultimate revenge of leaving Draco all alone to deal with the rumors and the blame. _Good-bye_.

But what would the point be? Honestly. Pitiful revenge? She would kill herself, end her life, and leave behind her friends, just because of a misunderstanding? Just because something hadn't worked?

'_I don't love you anymore.'_

_Stop it Hermione, it's just a bloody song._

Was this the second misunderstanding her and Draco had had? Or was it the third? They seemed to have them quite often. Probably because they couldn't have a simple conversation. Her foot was starting to hurt as it was still dangling over the edge of the wall. She set it back down and crossed her arms over her chest, feeling quite cold. She could just go apologize to him. Explain things.

_He called you Mudblood_. _He should apologize, not you._

But would he apologize?

This was insane. She was standing at the edge of a very high tower, wondering if Draco Malfoy would apologize for calling her a Mudblood. Soon Harry would start singing 'I'm A Survivor' for cash on Platform 9 ¾ and Snape would rise from the dead to hand out lemon drops wearing a red and green Christmas sweater. Why even consider Draco apologizing? It was a bloody waste of time. Wasn't there something she should be doing? Oh yes, contemplating suicide.

Hermione frowned. In all honesty, she didn't want to die. She wanted to be snuggled up in bed against Draco. Seeing as that wasn't an option, she would like to be snuggled up in bed with a nice book. Maybe a mug of hot cocoa. That decided, she stepped off the ledge and back onto the floor of the tower.

_How anticlimactic_, Hermione thought to herself as she walked back to the Head Dorms, looking out for Peeves. _I'm exactly where I started_.

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**A/N: So… yeah! Things end pretty quickly after this, there are only two or three chapters left.**

**Teaser?**

"_Let's just say that Lavender and Parvati woke us all up early." _

**Hehehehe. Review!**

**Final Word Count: 3565**


	23. The Downfall of Ron Weasley, And The Key

**A/N: This chapter was quite a lot of fun to write. I really enjoyed it, I must admit. It was going to be two separate chapters, but I smushed them together. Huzzah! Final chapter! Yes, I know, so sad. But it's over pretty much. I'll possibly do an epilogue, but to be honest I just want this to end soon, simply because it's impossible to update lately. But yes, an epilogue. **

**But I must say that although this story is coming to an end, it was a real experience writing it. I'll save my weepy thanks and last words for the epilogue, however.**

**Yes, it's been AGES since I last updated. Welcome to high school. Plus I wrote a novel during nanowrimo, so I've been distracted.**

**Warning: Swearing in this chapter, just for the record.**

**Disclaimer: I didn't own Harry Potter 22 chapters ago, and I still don't own it now. And the lyrics in this chapter don't belong to me, they belong to the band Coldplay.**

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**Chapter 23: The Downfall of Ron Weasley, And The Key**

Draco Malfoy was absolutely freezing. That was the only thought he could really process at the moment, as he didn't want to think of anything else. Remaining willingly in his state of denial, he whined internally about the December chill biting at the tip of his nose. Pink cheeked and shivering, he drew his thin robe closer around his shoulders, scowling halfheartedly at the snowflakes drifting in the wind in front of him. He shifted on his metal bench, shuffling his feet to prevent them from being buried in the falling snow. Cursing his decision to flee to the quidditch pitch, he tried to keep his teeth from chattering.

Normally he would have dashed immediately to the lake when he wanted to be alone, paddling his little boat out as far as he could go as he imagined leaving his worries on the shore. However, it was the middle of winter and the lake was frozen over, covered by several inches of snow. The quidditch pitch was likewise blanketed, but he had hurtled across the ground, fueled by adrenaline and fury. Now his fury had dwindled down to embarrassment and regret, and his adrenaline had been replaced by a strong urge to burrow into the warm sheets of his bed back in his dorm. The only thing preventing him from moving was his own pride, and he wouldn't allow himself to reenter the castle until he could be sure that other students were safely in their beds and wouldn't be awake to see him return. For now he was forced to endure the cold, and to confront his less than pleasant thoughts.

Now that rational thought had returned to him, he understood that Hermione had not been trying to embarrass him, as his rash mind had originally concluded. Upon recalling the lyrics to the song she had sang, he deduced that she had been singing about him, _for_ him. The Head Boy blushed as he remembered yelling at her in a jealous rage about her betrayal, and feared that she would never forgive him. He had been extremely out of bounds calling her a mudblood, and knew that as soon as he approached her tomorrow, she would scream herself hoarse.

Or hex him. That would work too.

"Fuck," he snarled aloud, balling his fists that were slowly turning blue. "_**Fuck**_!" It wasn't Diggory she missed, it was him! _Him_! She loved him! And he'd _fucked_ it up! "Bloody fucking hell!" The one girl, the only girl, whom he had ever felt an ounce of affection for, was the one whom he had just offended, cutting her down in front of the school as if they were once again twelve and in the middle of the quidditch pitch. _This_ pitch, he realized, and he glared down at the snow-covered grass as if it had just ruined his evening. Oh Merlin, he'd ruined the ball, the fabulous ball that Hermione had been working on for months now. It had been going so well until he'd _fucked_ it up like a total _wanker_.

_And he'd left the key with her._

The thought dawned on him like a bolt of lightening. He'd thrown it on the ground and stalked off. Had she picked it up? Had she left it there? No, she must have taken it. She _had_ to have. She was Hermione Granger, for Merlin's sake! She always had to know, so surely she couldn't have ignored the mystery of the key that he'd spurned with such fury.

_Unless she'd been distracted by him calling her a mudblood…_

He'd made her cry. Oh Merlin, he'd made her _cry_. What an awful, miserable, inconsiderate, thoughtless, horrible thing to do! How could he have done such a thing?

How could he have not done? After all, he was so much like his father…

"Stop it!" he screamed into the night, springing up from the frigid metal bench. "Just stop it!" But no one was doing this. It wasn't his father who had made her cry, no, Lucius was six feet under, decaying and cold. This had been him entirely, this was his fault. Not Weasley's, not Potter's, not Diggory's, not even Krum's. This was his fault. He was ruining the one good thing that he'd ever had. He'd finally secured his own misery, and his life would never ever change. He was diluted to think otherwise. This was his fate, to stand alone in the cold, frustrated with his life, resenting his situation, hating himself.

God, he was so tired of this. He hated these regrets, hated looking back on that moment in the Hospital Wing, hated remembering her whisper in her defeated voiced that they couldn't, that there was no attraction to allow it. He hated knowing she'd been right, that everything _was_ different.

The difference was that he knew now what he didn't know then. He knew that he really did love her, Hermione Granger, and that nothing was going to stand in his way anymore. Not Weasley, not Lucius, not himself. She was the one he wanted, and no one could stop him from telling her how he felt.

_That's all fine and dandy_, he thought cruelly, _but how exactly am I going to tell her? She isn't going to want to see me, and Potter and Weasley aren't going to let me near her after the stunt that I just pulled._

But would she turn to Potter and Weasley for comfort? Had she turned to them after Diggory's death? This was something she would hide, or would have hid before, well, before the attraction. But there was someone she trusted now, wasn't there?

Draco turned and dashed down the narrow path in front of his bench towards the stairs, skidding on the icy steps, all the while thinking _Christine McKay better help me_.

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Surprisingly enough, Hermione slept quite well that night. Predictably, Draco did not show in the Head Dorms, and she dozed peacefully in her large bed, finally content now that she had faced her demons on the Astronomy Tower. Understandably, the evening had tuckered her out, and she woke the next morning groggy but nonetheless well rested. She slipped into a red terrycloth bathrobe, tiptoed into the warm Head's common room, fixed herself a cup of tea, and sat down at the table in the kitchenette. Sipping delicately from her teacup, she settled in to analysis the previous night. It had been, unsurprisingly, a failure.

Well, that was a bit of an untruth. The ball had been fantastic, and she hadn't seen one frowning face the entire evening, except, perhaps, Parvati Patil. Harry and Ginny had danced the night away happily, and Christine and Neville had been seen flirting together over cups of pumpkin juice. Even Pansy Parkinson had been relatively happy in a corner, surrounded by Slytherin fangirls and boys alike. Luna's DJing had been a massive hit, as one by one students went up to pour their heart out into the microphone. Smiling thinly, Hermione decided she couldn't have done a better job.

Except for the miraculous exception of her personal meltdown. Her singing had been well received by everyone except her intended audience, and she cringed as she recalled Draco's snarling face. Oops?

She shouldn't have made such a public gesture, that much was now obvious. Perhaps she should have just tugged him aside after a Prefect's meeting and quietly confessed her feelings. If disgusted, he could have swept off and they would have pretended nothing had ever transpired between them. If delighted, he could have kissed her, and they would have made a mess of the conference table. What a simple, perfect situation.

The purple elephant in the room stomped it's feet angrily. _He called me a mudblood_. Ah, but he'd been upset! That was what Malfoy's did when upset and embarrassed, they rattled off a few slurs and ran away, before sending someone else to do some actual dirty revenge. And so far, at 10:17 in the morning, no Slytherin goons had rushed at her doorway. He's just been tremendously embarrassed and caught off guard. Surprised was the word she was looking for. He'd simply been surprised.

She was fooling herself. She was going around in circles by doing this, recalling every word and repeating every moment. If she continued like this, she would be crying soon. She didn't like to cry. She hated it, to be perfectly honest. Cleansing, true, but still a mess. Oh God, why was she thinking like this? This was ridiculous!

Thankfully, her saving came in the form of Ginny Weasley, calling to her from the portrait hole.

"Hermione? Are you in there?" Hermione wiped the heel of her palm automatically across her dry eyes before standing up and walking to the door. She pushed it open from the back of the frame and forced a smile for the nervous sixth year standing out in the otherwise empty corridor.

"Morning Ginny!" she trilled with an unconvincing attempt at a cheery wave. The redhead winced in return and leaned against the portrait hole, knowing better than to believe the Head Girl's façade.

"Happy Christmas, Mione," she said, choosing not to comment. "May I come in?" Hermione nodded and pushed the portrait out further to allow her friend entrance. Frowning, she remembered suddenly that it was in fact Christmas morning. In the rush of preparations for the ball, she'd forgotten, though luckily she'd bought Christmas presents weeks in advance for Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Christine. Marveling at how fast time moved, she watched her friend lie down on a sofa in front of the fire, and eased herself onto the sofa across from her.

"What are you doing here, Gin?" The younger girl levered herself up onto her elbows and stared at her friend.

"Rescuing you from your self inflicted moping. Come and join us, we're going to exchange gifts soon." Hermione rubbed her eyes with her fists and considered the time.

"It's still quite early, I figured Ron and Harry would be sleeping off a tremendous hang over right now." Ginny's cheeky grin was answer enough.

"Let's just say that Lavender and Parvati woke us all up early."

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Twenty minutes later found Hermione and Ginny reclining on a couch in Gryffindor Tower, watching peacefully as Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil took turns yelling at Ron. Apparently Parvati had decided to tell Lavender about her affair with Ron, and rather than getting mad at Parvati, Lavender had done the sensible thing and immediately sought out Ron. This was why the ravenous blond had burst into the boys' dorm at ten in the morning screaming bloody murder, waking up all of the seventh year boys and, coincidentally, Ginny, whom had been sharing a bed with her boyfriend for reasons Hermione did not want to fathom.

"You fucking greedy, arrogant, asshole!" screeched Lavender, still in her lilac pajamas. Behind her, Parvati nodded feverishly, most likely hoping that by fueling her friend's anger towards Ron, she would be lessening the resentment Lavender would most likely turn towards her later on. Hermione couldn't help smirking as she watched Ron blush deep red. He was standing several feet away from his scorned girlfriends, half dressed in his Chudley Cannons boxers and a red quidditch robe he had no doubt thrown on as he was chased out of his dorm. Ginny giggled from her place in Harry's lap, only darkening the red tint on her brother's face.

"How could you do this to us, you bloody prick!" added Parvati, twirling her plait self-consciously around her finger, still unsure as to whether she had a right to be angry at Ron. However, why not be? Everyone was always mad at Ron. It was just the way things were in Gryffindor Tower.

"That's rich, coming from you!" yelled Ron in return. "You asked for everything I did to you! Pleaded for, even!" Now it was Parvati's turn to darken, and Lavender howled wordlessly.

"He's doomed," Harry observed, amused despite his worry for his best friend. Ginny nodded in agreement.

"Should we rescue him?" she asked.

"Nah," Hermione decided, smilingly a tad violently. Harry and Ginny shrugged, apparently fine with the idea.

"I can't believe you, Ronald Weasley! You have some nerve cheating on me! I'm beautiful! I can get any guy I want to!" Lavender wailed, her hair beginning to tumble out of its blond pigtails. "You weren't even that good in bed, but I stayed with you because I thought you loved me!" The crew on the couch giggled shamelessly, earning them an exasperated glare from Ron. Colin Creevy sat down on the carpet in front of Harry, camera in hand.

"Shall we document, for posterity?" he turned around to ask them, grinning devilishly, remembering all of the times Ron had confiscated his quidditch magazines during meals, claiming they were distracting the other students from their food. Harry didn't protest as Hermione said calmly,

"I don't see why not," while winking to the sixth year. The click of his camera indicated that Ron Weasley would never live this moment down.

Next they were joined by a panting Christine, who collapsed on the sofa next to Hermione. The Head Girl spared her friend a glance before returning to her previous activity of staring at Ron's downfall. Her attention was captured swiftly, however, when Christine panted,

"Hermione! Malfoy! Entrance hall!" Whirling around in her seat as Lavender ranted in the background ('Could have given me Herpes, you bloody pervert!'), Hermione stared at Christine.

"What?"

"Malfoy's in the Entrance hall!" she started over, wide eyed and grinning. "He's got a guitar!"

That was all Hermione needed to know.

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It only took Hermione, Ginny, Harry, and Christine four minutes to reach the Entrance hall, and they were quickly followed by most of Gryffindor Tower. The Head Girl lead the pack, and she skidded to a halt at the top of the marble stairway that would lead to the floor of the hall, her path down the stairs blocked by a crowd of baffled Ravenclaws. Apparently most of the school had been alerted to the fact that Draco Malfoy was currently sitting on a stool, alone, in the middle of the Entrance hall with a guitar, and several dozen Hufflepuffs had shamelessly seated themselves on the floor in a circle around him. Dispersed between the Hufflepuffs were Slytherins, waiting for their leader to act. Ravenclaws had raced from their tower to fill up the main stairway, sitting together on the steps. The Gryffindors had begun to clog up the balcony overlooking the hall, and Hermione leaned against the banister, staring down at the anxious figure that was the boy she loved.

He looked quite small, surrounded by his peers. No one else could have known, but she could tell that he was very scared, his blue eyes wide and fearful. His fingers were picking nervously at the strings of his acoustic guitar, and he tapped his foot on a wooden rung on his stool. He was looking for someone, and it wasn't until his eyes landed on her that she realized this was for her. Like a diver about to jump into water, he took a deep breath of air, before beginning to strum his guitar.

She hadn't heard the song before, but could tell from the low, simple chords that it was mournful and sad. Ginny and Christine had flanked her sides without her noticing, and each of them drew closer to her as if sensing she needed their support. Behind the three girls, Harry and Ron provided a backbone, each placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder. This was her moment, and they would not interfere.

Draco licked his lips, watching Hermione's face fill with emotion. He readied himself for the singing he would have to do.

"_Now I never meant to do you wrong, that's what I came here to say_," he sang uneasily, fully aware that he was not an excellent singer. It didn't matter, however, as above him Hermione bit her lip and listened, aware of the risk he was taking. "_But if I was wrong, then I'm sorry, but don't let it stand in our way. Cause my head just aches when I think of the things I shouldn't have done._"

Here he paused his singing, continuing to stroke his fingers carefully across the guitar he hadn't played for several months. He had _promised_ her he would do this, and damn it, it was the only way to _apologize_.

"_But life is for living, we all know, and I don't want to live it alone._" Draco had yet to stop staring into her eyes, and she knew what his message was. He chose her over what his life was now. He finished up the song on guitar, the last few notes lingering in the silent hall, and she waited, unsure of what to do now.

"Mya, I'm so sorry," he pleaded finally, standing up from his stool. Whispers filled the room as everyone twisted around to see who he was speaking to. The whispers rose to jabbering as they recognized the Head Girl staring anxiously down at him. "I can't pretend anymore."

Not fully aware of where she was stepping, Hermione walked quickly down the balcony before ducking around the Ravenclaws crowding the stairs. Her pace quickened until she felt like she was flying towards Draco, her eyes growing wet and glazed. Finally she stopped and threw her arms around him, overcome with such a sense of right as he hugged her fiercely back.

"Oh Draco, I love you, _I love you_," she repeated over and over again, burying her face in his neck as he shifted comfortingly back and forth, closing his eyes. It was just the two of them and this was the moment that made it worth it and he knew he was at home. He knew he had made the right decision.

"I was so scared, Mya," he whispered as she drew backwards away from him. He pushed some of her loose curly hair out of her face and behind her ear, finding her amazingly beautiful even though tears were already wetting her face. "I thought the key would do it but I didn't even get a chance to really give it to you."

"What key?" she asked, genuinely confused. She remembered him throwing something small down onto the floor the previous night, but had never spared it a second thought. Draco frowned, having been positive she would have the key.

"What do you mean 'what key,' I thought you'd take it," he said, grasping her shoulders. "The key to the Shrieking Shack, I gave it to you last night!"

"Hermione!" yelled a female voice from upstairs. The couple looked up to see Ginny grinning as she leaned against the banister, a shiny something dangling from her fingers. "Catch!" The sixth year tossed the key gently towards them, and it turned in the air, catching the light and casting glimmers across the hall. Draco caught it easily.

"You bought the shack?" Hermione asked in awe, completely stunned. Draco nodded, smiling at the shock spreading across her face.

"I couldn't think of what to do to get you back," he said, pressing the key into her palm. "It's yours." The Head Girl had been stunned into silence, and she gaped up at him silently, unable to answer. Draco grinned widened even more.

"Well go on then," Christine shouted playfully, "Kiss her!"

So he did.


	24. Epilogue

Chapter 24: Epilogue

**Chapter 24: Epilogue**

"Well, we've certainly had an interesting seven years," Draco said warmly, humor glinting in his voice. He smirked out at the audience as they laughed at his joke, leaning his arms against the podium. Hermione stood close to him to read the speech they'd written out on parchment the previous night, and she smiled with pride as he continued the opener. "We started off as first years, divided and ignorant of the world and all of its complexities. As second years, we experienced our first real brush with danger and learned the hard way what it meant to not trust each other."

"In our fourth year," Hermione picked up, leaning closer to the magical microphone on the podium as Draco backed up, his hand placed on her back. "We were forced to grow up faster than we'd expected when our friend reached the end of his life at the hands of evil." She paused, finding Harry's face in the crowd. He gave her a comforting nod, green eyes bright in the warm summer sun. "And in our fifth year, we were plunged into a brutal and petrifying war."

"Many of us lost family, friends, and loved ones in the months that followed," Draco said, his voice soft. "And they will stay with us always. But what we lost, we found again in each other by closing the divides that separated us for much of our educational career at Hogwarts." He placed his hand over Hermione's on the podium, and looked at her instead of the audience when he continued. "We finally began to achieve the inter-house unity encouraged by our Professors, and while it was no easy task, here we all are together."

"In our seven years at Hogwarts, we've battled basilisks, Dementors, and Dark Magic," Hermione said. "We've seen quidditch accidents, corrupt Ministries, and duels. But we've also had grand balls, where the happiness outweighed the sorrow, and beautiful days in the summer sun, such as today. And through the tragedy and the joy, we as a class have supported each other and forged amazing friendships that will last a lifetime."

"So although we graduate today," Draco resumed, entwining Hermione's fingers with his own. "We will never forget Hogwarts or the people we have met here. We are all a family, dysfunctional and insane, but a family," there were chuckles from the audience, and he grinned, "And we will forever be tied together by our experiences and our past." He looked at Hermione, his eyes urging her to finish.

"And so, with great honor and happiness do I say, class of 1998," she caught Draco's eye, and he joined her as she yelled out, _"We did it!"_

The audience stood up with a unanimous roar, throwing their caps up in the air. Hermione giggled as Draco turned to face her, picking up her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of her palm, holding her wrist so that he could see the engagement ring sparkling on her finger.

"I love you, Mya," he whispered against her skin, and she blushed, finally at peace.

"I love you too, Draco." He wrapped his arm around her waist and stood by her side to watch their friends whoop and cheer out in the audience, finally free of school.

"So, what happens now?" he asked quietly, his face serious and maybe a little scared.

"Life happens now," Hermione told him teasingly, and he rolled his eyes. "Don't worry about it, not now. For now just…" she sighed contentedly, and he watched her lips move delicately. "Just enjoy the moment."

_Fin_

**A/N: So! I guess this fic is… over? Wow. Huh. To be honest, I didn't think I'd ever finish it, you know? Just never seemed possible, or it was so far off in the distance that I couldn't really make it out. Well, I guess that time is now, and I better make my thanks.**

**Thank you to all of the reviewers, seriously, every single one of you. By the time I've finished this epilogue, I have 1709 reviews, which is a massively huge amount. And I have over 749 people reading this story, that being the total number of story alerts, and there are 349 people who have me on their author alert list. And if I may be greedy for a second, if all of you write a review for this epilogue, I'll hit 2000 reviews, which would be absolutely amazing. So… please?**

**There are a bunch of reviewers in particular who I would really love to thank, so I'll try to name as many as I can here. ****Periwinkle4444****, I love you and you're amazing. ****Cckeimig****, my beta, who put up with a massive amount of grammar issues and other silly stuff. A few people have reviewed every chapter religiously, and I can't name everyone but a few include ****HgBookworm, macaday me a nut, Victoria Humblydum, mistymixwolf aka Perch, Michelle Felton, lilkyonkyon, Bellatrix 06, Emerald 27, dan-lovr, VBC, GalaxyStorme****, and so on.**

**So guys, I guess this is it for Magnetic Attraction. But I urge you to review, write, and go read some of my other stuff! The one fan fic I'm completely devoted to is a Tom Riddle/Voldemort/Hermione/Draco fic that is totally messed up but incredibly awesome, if you guys need something else to read. It's called ****Weak****. And of course, you can read any of the stuff on my favorites list, I promise you that it's all amazing. And if you guys want to read any of my original fiction, which I've written a **_**lot**_** of, you can find that on my Deviant Art page. My user name is ****ellamsrlb, and you can find my page at ( http : / / ellamsrlb . deviantart . com / ), just remove the spaces.**

**Thanks again! Cheers!**

**-Ellamalfoy8**


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